Nocturnal Instinct
by CheevesDinkley
Summary: When politicians staying in Coolsville for a summit begin to die under mysterious circumstances, Fred Jones decides to go hunting for the truth, hoping for a grand adventure- and to earn his father's respect.
1. Nothing Will Ever Happen

**Hi everyone! This is my first Scooby-Doo fic. I hope you like it!**

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Prologue

 _He loosened the collar of his white button-down, which appeared to glow with an array of faint colors in the neon lights. He sat at the bar- partly to drink, but partly to distance himself from the noise of the dance floor. A discotheque had no place in a small town, he had decided._

 _The mayor had insisted on touring him around town, as he'd been the first to arrive to the summit. Surprisingly, amidst the flashing lights and pounding noise of the first of many stops along their tour, he had lost sight of the mayor. Now, he sat at the bar, wishing more than anything that he were alone in his hotel room, or, better yet, back in his own town, on the other side of the country._

 _He felt a hand on his shoulder, and glanced up to find a woman looking down at him with lustful eyes. He didn't appear to be having much fun, she noted. The man nodded. The woman leaned towards him and retrieved a small capsule from between her breasts. With delicate hands, she opened the pill and poured its contents- a metallic looking powder- into his whiskey. She stirred the concoction with her finger, telling the man this would help him. She touched her own glass to his, which sat patiently on his napkin. Cheers, she sang. When he peeled his eyes from the swirling liquid to question the woman, she was already long gone._

 _Tentatively, he lifted the whisky to his nose. It smelled normal. He examined the glass more thoroughly, but any trace of the powder had long since dissolved. The man sighed. Bottoms up._

 _Instantly, the man felt different. The colors of the nightclub all appeared brighter, and the noises, once sharp and abrasive, were diminished to next to nothing. The room spun as the man tried to find his bearings. Flashes of blue and red made it impossible for him to navigate throughout the crowded building. But there was something else._

 _It followed him. Its growls were the only sounds the man could make out clearly. Its shadow grew closer to the man. Every time he turned, it was there. Stalking its prey._

 _The street was cold, and it stung against the man's damp flesh. He stumbled toward the road, holding his hands in front of him as though her were trying to find his way in the dark. He felt his way toward a cab and collapsed inside, hurrying the driver to return him to the hotel where he was staying._

 _It followed._

 _The man slammed to door of his hotel room, locking the chain with hot and shaky fingers. He hadn't taken the elevator, out of fear that it would be waiting for him inside. It had chased him up the stairs, it's thick growl ringing in his mind. It had followed him all the way down the hall, but now it appeared as though the man was safe in his room._

 _A noise grabbed the man's attention, and he turned to look at his bedroom. The lights from outside the window cast various shadows in his room. He squinted, attempting to make out each one._

 _He heard the noise again, quiet at first, but then loud enough to decipher. The growl. His eyes darted frantically through the room. A large shadow moved across the wall, making its way towards him. It had beaten him there._

 _The man reached for the door, grasping aimlessly at the chain lock. The growls grew louder and louder, and the shadow seemed to engulf the man. He screamed for help, as it reached out towards him. There was nothing he could do to save himself._

Chapter One: Nothing Will Ever Happen

I bounced my head off the steering wheel, producing a quick honk upon impact. I repeated the motion again and again, my head throbbing more each time i made contact with the leather horn. I let my head fall towards the wheel again, but Daphne grabbed my arm before I could hit the horn.

"Stop," she whined through a mouthful of bubblegum. Daphne hoisted her left leg up onto the dashboard and tugged on the laces of her roller skates, retying the knot for what felt like the thousandth time that morning. She grabbed her knee socks by the thick green stripe at the top and yanked them up her leg. With a huff, she let her left leg fall to the floor and pulled the right one onto the dashboard, going through the motions yet again.

I groaned. Nothing ever happened. Since graduation the previous month, every day had felt the same for me and my friends.

I drove the gang around: to the freak show that passed through town a few weeks ago, the midnight showing of Nightmare on Elm Street in the park, to carve our names in the "Welcome to Coolsville: A Cool Place To Live" sign on the edge of town. It didn't matter where we went or what we did, nothing in our lives felt new. It was all just filler.

I sighed, leaning back so that my head dangled over the back of my seat.

Finally, the back door of the van swung open, and in hopped Scooby-Doo. He bounded up to me, licking my face until I managed to shove him off. I sat back up, grabbing the bottom of my tee shirt and using it to wipe the slobber off my face.

Shaggy followed Scooby into the van and sat down in the back seat. He shrugged off his backpack and pulled out a bag of gummy worms. He tossed one in his mouth before feeding one to Scooby. Velma, who sat across from Shaggy, scoffed and made a quip about how bad candy was for dogs. Shaggy threw a gummy worm at her.

"So, where to?" I asked as I didn't bother to quiz Shaggy about why he'd been fifteen minutes late. Whether it was mom stuff or oversleeping, it was a wonder Shaggy ever made it anywhere on time.

The question seemed to answer itself as I pulled out onto main street. Four police cruisers, each with flashing lights, were parked around the Coolsville Ritz Hotel. More cops than I'd ever seen were all gathered around the entrance, interviewing people or simply guarding the revolving door to keep eager eyes away from whatever was going on inside.

I glanced around me, curious to see my friends' reactions to the scene that was unfolding in front of us. Velma's nose was buried in a novel as she mindlessly tapped Shaggy's calf with her derby shoes. Shaggy fed Scooby another gummy worm. Daphne was peeling gum off her nose. I pulled the wheel of the van right up onto the curb next to the cruisers. The bump brought them all to attention, like soldiers at the sound of a bugle.

"What happened?" Velma asked. She shut her book, stuffing it into her brown leather satchel.

"Let's find out." I offered, leaping out of the driver's seat and onto the pavement below. They all followed after me.

Daphne knocked into me as we walked up to the hotel. She was wobbly on her new skates (or rather, old skates- she'd found them at a second hand store the previous day). Despite this, any attempt I made to hold onto her was met with a shrug and a childish whine. Clearly, the dirty vintage roller skates with hot pink wheels were a mountain she intended to climb all on her own.

Daphne was the only one of us who'd been having fun this summer. She'd made a vow to herself to make every minute of her break count, and so far she had been. So far Daphne had mastered archery, learned to drive a motorcycle, and then- to top it all off- invented her own sport called motor-archery, which was exactly what it sounded like. This week, it was roller skates. None of us bothered to question how or why Daphne had become so skilled at such useless things. Shaggy had always said that she had was he called "Chaotic Extra-Terrestrial Energy," which was true even if it wasn't a real thing.

"Hold it, kids," one of the officers warned. "This is a crime scene. I'm afraid I can't let you get any closer."

Before we could respond, the officer was pushed out of the way by a much larger man: The sheriff. He wasn't much taller than I was, but he weighed at least a hundred pounds more.

"Hi there, Sheriff Stone." Shaggy offered, "you're looking especially corrupt today."

Velma elbowed him in the gut.

It was true that Sheriff Stone was well known throughout town as a crooked cop. The rumors about him were plentiful, but only one was indisputable: Sheriff Stone was directly under the mayor's thumb.

"New badge, Sheriff?" I smirked, eying my shiny gold reflection on his chest.

"Yes, actually," the sheriff growled, "Some snot-nosed kids hit my old one with their paintball gun."

We snickered at this. Sheriff Stone was well aware that it had been us who had splatted red paint on his old badge, but with no proof, there wasn't much he could do to us. Besides, he didn't have the whole story. We didn't use a gun, Daphne had fired the paintball from her bow.

And she was aiming for his head.

I side-stepped past the sheriff and climbed through the web of caution tape and into the hotel lobby. The gang followed me. Dumbfounded, the sheriff did as well.

The Coolsville Ritz Hotel was one of the newer buildings in town. The mayor was always keen on modernizing what he believed to be a budding metropolis. In fact, "Let's put Coolsville back on the map!" had been his campaign slogan for the past three elections. With a population of 80, 000 people, Coolsville had never actually been on any major maps. But the key to any campaign is a strong campaign slogan, and this one seemed to be moving mountains- so, it stuck.

The Ritz looked like something out of a TV show. The floors were all marble, and a giant fountain sat in the middle of the lobby. Smooth jazz played over the speakers, and shiny brass luggage carts stood at attention, ready to be loaded up and pushed away by one of the many navy clad bell boys. The hotel was only three stories tall and no one ever stayed there, but everyone knew that appearances were more important than function to the mayor.

"So, what happened?" I asked, pushing the up button on the elevator. Eagerly, Daphne continued to push it as Sheriff Stone caught up to us.

"I'm afraid that's classified." He panted. He wiped his sweaty forehead with a handkerchief.

"Probably murder," Velma mumbled, picking at the fraying threads on her satchel. "Judging by all the squad cars."

The elevator doors opened and we piled inside. Just as I'd predicted, Sheriff Stone joined us. I pretended to puzzle over the buttons until the sheriff swatted my hand away, pushing on level two. Just because he was corrupt didn't make him smart, a valuable lesson I'd been exploiting for as long as I could remember.

"It wasn't murder," the sheriff grunted. "The victim died under suspicious circumstances- and that's all I can say."

"If it wasn't murder, what makes it suspicious?" Daphne asked before blowing a huge bubble. Shaggy reached out to pop it, but she swatted his hand away before he got the chance.

"The victim appears to have been attacked by some kind of animal- but there's no way an animal could have got into his room- and that's all you kids are getting out of me!"

Velma hummed, "what makes-"

The elevator dinged and the doors glided open, revealing the chaos of the second floor. Cops, forensic scientists, and detectives all hurried around- all seeming to be focused around one room- 212. We wandered in the direction of the room, but Sheriff Stone grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," he whispered. "The mayor's been hanging around in there."

I shrugged, and he let me go.

The four of us (five, if you count the dog) stood in the doorway to room 212. On the floor next to the bed lied a black plastic body bag, which sat in a pool of blood. Other than that, the room appeared entirely as it should. The bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, the white sheets where crisp and without wrinkle, a little chocolate even sat by the pillows. On top of the bed sat an opened suitcase, filled with folded collared shirts. All of the artwork hung neatly on the walls and the large window was firmly closed. In fact, if it weren't for the body on the floor, I would have quite liked to stay in this room myself. Except for one thing.

The mayor stood quietly in the center of the room, tapping his dress shoe on the floor impatiently. He turned around at the sound of our voices, giving us a cheesy mayoral smile as though nothing was wrong.

"Fred," he greeted warmly, "what brings you here?"

I swallowed hard and put on my best fake smile.

"Hi, Dad."

* * *

Let's get one thing straight; my father and I got along fine.

That being said, there was always a barrier between us. Velma had said it was because I tried too hard to please him, which could have easily been true. I'd always gone out of my way to impress my dad.

In the ninth grade, I played the lead in our school's production of _Romeo & Juliet_, hoping it would earn me cool-points from my dad. Daphne had gone out for the role of Juliet, but she'd lost it to an eleventh grader who was too tall for me to kiss and always smelt pungent and over-saturated, like the inside of a Yankee Candle store. I spent every weeknight from three until six at rehearsal, and then walked eight blocks home, usually in the cold and always in the dark. My dad didn't even come to the show.

Trying a different approach, I went out for baseball in the tenth grade. It had its plus sides- I made a few guy friends (my dad thought spending all my time with Daphne would make me soft) and I learned to value a good workout. But I hated the sport. My dad went to a few of my games, but spent them all talking on the phone, and was never shy about finding athletes barbaric and unintelligent.

The eleventh grade was when my cry for help really began. I started driving around in a beat up white van that I'd bought at a junkyard, and I stopped hanging out with my baseball friends. Instead, I picked up a couple of misfits from the detention room and started my own little gang. Velma was one of those science fair geeks with a knack for getting a little too aggressive with the popular kids. Shaggy was a slacker with enough tardies to land him in detention for life. Daphne, who'd been my best friend since I'd taught her how to rig the claw machine in the arcade in the eighth grade, was going through a creative goth phase at the time. The dog was a bonus.

I watched as two men lifted up the body bag and carried it out of the room, dripping with blood as they went. My dad shook his head at the pool of fluids left in its place.

"What a shame," he sighed. "I'd been out on the town with him just last night."

"Who was he?" Velma inquired. She knelt down to get a closer look at the pool of blood on the floor, but my dad grabbed her corduroy dress by the suspender and pulled her away from the mess.

"Steven Adams- a councilor from Crystal Cove, California. He was in town for the summit I'm hosting- about small municipalities and how to-"

"Put them back on the map?" Shaggy offered with a smirk. My dad nodded.

"Precisely. Anyway, it would appear he was killed by some kind of wild animal. Terrible shame." My dad sighed again. I doubted that he was actually torn up over the scene in front of us. He had simply been putting on an act .

"What makes you so sure that it was a wild animal?" Velma inquired. I could sense my dad was growing impatient with the questions. "The doors and windows were all locked from the inside, and there's clearly no sign of a struggle."

"If you saw the body, you'd know, dear." My dad quipped, "no human could have done that. Besides, we'll be performing a routine autopsy today, and if there's anything out of the ordinary, we'll know. For now, there's clearly nothing worth investigating." My dad took off his glasses, huffing onto the lenses before wiping them down with his cleaning cloth. "Don't you kids have somewhere better to be?"

My dad left without another word, and a few maids wheeled their cart in shortly after. They didn't waste any time cleaning the bloodstain, and soon the room looked just as tidy as the rest of the hotel. All of the police filed off the second floor, and it was clear that any investigating that would have been done had already happened. It was as though the whole ordeal had never taken place.

So, we drove away. All I ever did was drive.

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 **I hope you guys enjoyed chapter one! Please be sure to leave a review, and expect chapter two within the next week.**


	2. Body Language

**howdy! here's chapter 2! it's not as long as chapter 1, obviously, but I hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter Two: Body Language

The Burger Binge was the classic small town diner. Neon lights decorated both the inside and the outside of the restaurant, and the checkered tiles and plush red booths gave it a distinct 1950's feel. The jukebox in the back corner only played songs that had come out before my friends and I were born, and even the waitresses were dressed up in classic 50's attire. We, of course, didn't go for the aesthetic. We went for all-day breakfast.

Aside from being the most authentic post-modern dining experience in town, The Burger Binge was also the only place that served breakfast after noon. This was most likely because, despite the restaurant's title, the burgers were crap, and they needed to make their money somehow. So, that's where we would waste our time whenever we were bored and hungry after twelve p.m. (we never went to The Burger Binge for breakfast before noon, because the fun of all-day breakfast was stripped away if you ate it at the same time that everyone else was, anyway).

Despite the plate of pancakes growing soggy in front of me, I couldn't help but watch Daphne. She'd lost the cherry somewhere at the bottom of her strawberry milkshake, and was using her two straws to try and grab it. Her ginger hair fell around her face as she leaned over the sticky pink drink, and her tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth.

The other thing distracting me was my dad. It seemed obvious to everyone at the hotel this morning that that man hadn't been killed by an animal. The unspoken truth had hung through the air like a dense fog, and my father seemed to be the only one not caught in the haze. He'd texted me a few minutes prior, just to let me know that the autopsy had been completely normal, and that the investigation had been officially closed. That had bothered me, for some reason. I wondered if my dad even wanted the truth. I wondered if he would have been grateful if I found it for him.

Daphne had a grasp on the cherry now, and lifted it slowly out of the milkshake. Just as she was about to clear the rim of the glass, it slipped away from her straws and splashed back to the bottom of the drink. I snickered at her.

Daphne glanced in my direction, tossing her hair over her shoulder so she could face me. She giggled softly before turning back to her work. I tapped her calf with my foot, and I watched her smile again as I felt the wheel of her skate spin against my leg.

"Alright," Velma declared. "I think we can all agree that what happened at the hotel was weird, right? I mean- you guys don't really think an animal killed that guy."

Shaggy cleared his throat. "Do I think an animal killed him? No. Do I care to find out who did? Unsurprisingly, also no."

"Why not?" Daphne said, dropping her straws into her milkshake and leaning forward. "Aren't you even a little interested in what's going on?"

Before Shaggy had time to reply, Velma interjected again. "Man, what I wouldn't give to get a look at that body."

Shaggy and Daphne both looked at Velma in horror, but I was starting to hop on the bandwagon. I could only imagine how my father would feel if I found out what happened to that councilman. I'd be a hero- not just to my dad, but to the entire town.

"Let's do it." I announced without thinking.

Now even Velma was shocked. All of their talk had been hypothetical, but I was ready to spring this plan into action.

"Seriously," I continued. "Guys, this can be our big thing! The grand adventure to end a month-long saga of boredom! Come on, what do you say?"

They all stared blankly at me.

"Dude," Shaggy cried, "If you want an adventure, we'll take a road trip- Hell, let's go stay the night in the Lizzie Borden House! You're talking about, what, catching a murderer?"

"We don't know for sure that he was murdered." I offered, "I'm just suggesting that we sneak into the morgue later tonight and check out his body! If everything's normal like my dad said, we'll leave it alone. I promise."

Shaggy didn't seem impressed.

"You want to go play with corpses," He muttered, burying his face in his hands. "Fred Jones wants to get his sick kicks by desecrating the dead."

Shaggy had always served as the wet blanket to our more abstract ideas. His mother, a Filipino immigrant, had worked hard all her life to support herself in America- until she met his father, an older man who came from even older money. When Shaggy's dad died, he did everything he could to block out his image. He even went as far as to change his name- which had once been Norville, an indication of the high society from which he came. The past few years had been hard for Shaggy, but they left him with two important philosophies:

1) Life sucks, and then it's over.

2) Don't mess with the dead.

I hoped to break both of those philosophies before the night was through.

"All in favor?" I asked, raising my hand. Daphne and Velma each raised their hand as well. We all turned to Shaggy.

Groaning, Shaggy put his head down on the table, covering his face with his hands. We watched him skeptically, until finally, he slowly lifted one arm into the air.

* * *

The closest street lamp to the morgue was about eight yards down the road, leaving the back door lit with nothing more than a soft yellow glow. There was a light breeze which caused nearby bushes to rustle as though they had come alive with the twilight. Shaggy bounced nervously as he held up the flashlight, constantly darting his head from one direction to the next. He was convinced that we were going to get caught. Even if we had, we would have gotten off with nothing more than a slap to the wrist. Being the mayor's son carried certain perks.

Daphne pulled her bobby pins out of the lock, and pushed the heavy iron door open. The morgue was deserted. The only sound came from a dripping faucet somewhere in the distance, and the only sources of light (aside from our flashlight) were the exit signs, which cast a red hue upon the room.

We walked gingerly across the tiled floor, careful not to make a sound. The room couldn't have been warmer than forty degrees, causing us all to shiver in our summer clothes. Velma ran her hands along the stainless steel drawers, which cast warped reflections back at us, as though were in a funhouse.

"What did you say the man's name was?" Velma asked, pulling open one of the drawers. She glanced at the toe-tag before putting the body back.

I tried to remember the name my father had given me. "Adams..." I recalled, "Steven Adams."

Velma pulled open another drawer and glanced at the toe tag.

"Bingo." She remarked, before sliding the drawer all the way out to reveal the man's mangled corpse. She then turned to Shaggy and I. "Well, boys, let's get this poor unfortunate on a gurney."

In TV and movies, cops always talk about the first time they saw a dead body as something that would scar them for the rest of their lives. Maybe it was because I'd never known the man when he was alive, or perhaps in was the inhuman state of his remains, but regardless, I didn't feel the same. This man was just an object to me- like the dummy body at the beginning of a crime show.

His skin was cold, grey, and puffy like that of a Tim Burton character. Deep gashes and claw marks covered his entire body, with chunks of flesh even missing out of his torso and legs. Despite the gory mess, a Y shaped incision decorated his chest, which had been sewed up with string.

Shaggy and I lifted the body off of the gurney and up onto a stainless steel examining table. Shaggy did his best not to look at the man, gagging every time he caught a glimpse of the corpse. The reaction was warranted, I supposed.

Velma approached the table, now dressed in an apron she'd found somewhere in the morgue's many back rooms. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves and adjusted her headband before leaning over the body.

First, she gave the corpse a routine once-over, she had explained. She looked for any external anomalies, examined the exterior of the many large wounds, and looked in the man's eyes, which she had to pry open. It wasn't until he opened the man's mouth that her face lit up with a mischievous smile.

She beckoned us over, and Daphne and I leaned in towards the man's face- Shaggy had refused. With the handle of a scalpel, she directed our attention to faint black stains that resides on the man's teeth a and gums.

"Poison?" I asked, glancing up at Velma as she continued to poke around inside the man's throat.

"It's possible," she murmured, before snapping her head up. "I'm still convinced the wounds were what killed him, but this does warrant further investigation."

"So, what?" Shaggy asked, purposefully facing away from us- and the body we crowded around, "How do you figure out what poisoned him?"

"Simple," Velma smiled, looking as giddy as ever, "We open him back up!"

Velma snipped open the threads that held the man's incisions closed, opening up his body to reveal several mangled organs to the group. Since the man had clearly ingested something strange, she had wisely opted to examine his stomach first. A large gash made it easy to pour out the contents into a glass vile, where she could more easily determine what the man had swallowed. The pile of sludge was more revolting than the corpse itself, and appeared normal to Daphne and I- but Velma's trained eyes sparkled as they caught sight of something strange.

"Check it out'" She sang, dipping a gloved finger into the gunk, "look at all this black powder. Based on the way it's clumped together, I'd say it was some sort of hallucinogenic drug."

"Okay," Daphne offered, raising an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with him looking like he got caught in a blender?"

"I don't know..."

Velma hummed over the powder to herself, until we heard a sudden noise in the other room, and saw the beam of a flashlight shining from down the hallway.

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 **yowza! stay tuned for chapter 3, which i'll try and post this weekend! (spoiler alert: the fraphne will officially begin!)**


	3. We Can't Have Nice Things

**this chapter is pretty short, so i apologize for that! the next one is going to be super long. i hope you enjoy!**

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Chapter Three: We Can't Have Nice Things

The gang all looked at me as the footsteps drew nearer. With the person on the other end of the flashlight getting closer and no time to erase any evidence that we'd been there, we all simply made a bolt for the door.

"Who's there?" The voice called. It was Sheriff Stone. I cursed myself for not expecting that the morgue would have some kind of silent alarm.

We slammed the door shut behind us just as Sheriff Stone entered the room, and dove into the nearby bushes. We waited, silently, as the sheriff followed us out of the building. He shone his flashlight all around the area, grunting to himself as he made his way towards the parking lot- right where we'd left the van. He hadn't seen us, but we'd be in hot water if he noticed my van, where Scooby waited patiently for our return.

He rounded the corner of the building and we slowly began to emerge from the bushes, careful not to make too much noise. We peered into the parking lot, where Sheriff Stone was shining his flashlight into every car. He hadn't made his way to the van yet, but it was only a matter of time.

We must have gone too far around the edge of the building, because Scooby saw us and began to bark and howl- pleading for attention we weren't under the right circumstances to give. Shaggy darted back around the corner, knocking my head against the side of the building in an effort to remain out of view. I didn't have time to scold him, as Sheriff Stone was now making a direct beeline towards us. Fresh out of options, I did the only thing I could think to do to get us out of our mess: I grabbed Daphne's wrist and made a mad dash for the van.

We'd clearly confused Sheriff Stone, who took a moment to scratch his head before he began to chase us across the parking lot. His pause gave us enough time to make it to the van and throw open the rear doors. We leaped into the back just as Scooby-Doo ran out and into the parking lot, but we didn't wait for him. I hurled myself over the front seat and jammed my key in the ignition, ripping out of the parking lot just as Sheriff Stone had reached the side of the van.

* * *

The sheriff didn't bother trying to chase us. We'd sped out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, and hadn't slowed down until we hit the traffic of Main Street.

The neon lights of all the different store fronts, paired with the taillights of all the other vehicles on the road, cast an array of colors into the front seat of the van. I pulled up to a red light and felt Daphne roll over the front seat and into the shotgun position- her widely recognized spot since I bought the van. I glanced in her direction, the red brake lights of the car in front of us making her blue eyes glow a bright violet hue. It was at that moment I noticed that we were alone.

"What happened to Velma and Shaggy?" I asked her. "I thought they were with us."

"They scattered when _you_ yanked me out into the parking lot," she teased, "Scooby ran after them."

"I thought they would follow us."

Daphne turned to face me, resting her cheek against the back of the seat. He eyes were soft at first, but turned harsh as she reached out with two fingers and touched the side of my forehead. The contact stung my face, causing me to wince. Daphne's fingers came back red.

"Did you hit your head?" She asked skeptically, although she clearly already knew the answer.

"Just a scratch." I fibbed. I could feel a drop of blood begin to drip down the side of my face.

I pulled onto Daphne's street, which happened to be the most expensive one in Coolsville. The houses were all grand and luxurious- their occupants all millionaire lawyers or businessmen. Each home had a huge cast iron gate which separated it from the rest of the world. Daphne's was the only one I'd ever seen open.

She nudged me expectantly as I pulled up to her front door. "Come on, I'll patch you up."

I'd been in Daphne's house about a thousand times, but tonight felt different. The times before had been friendly after school visits, to help with homework or review her routine for cheerleading try-outs the following week (I told her it was good, which had apparently been bad advise because she didn't end up making the squad). Her mother would make us a snack- crackers and that cheese with the hard white stuff on the outside, or something equally fancy- and her father would not so subtly hint that he didn't like me and _he really didn't like my dad_.

Tonight we were alone, as far as I could tell. Her parents were either out for the night or fast asleep, as were her sisters. The only light came from outside her kitchen's vast picture window. There was something that felt wrong about being in her house like this. It was as though we were acting in secret.

Daphne patted a stool for me to sit on and went for the first aid kit. It was on the highest shelf in one of the many cupboards, so Daphne had to climb onto the counter to reach it, her denim shorts riding up as she did so. I didn't offer to help- Daphne hated that. Besides, the view wasn't awful.

She poured a splash of peroxide onto a cotton ball and gently dabbed at my forehead. It stung, but I pretended not to feel it. I tried to distract myself by turning my attention to Daphne. She appeared to be focused intensely, her tongue sticking out as it had been at The Burger Binge. Her face was so close to mine that I could feel her breath, which was warm against my nose. My eyes caught hers by accident, but she didn't look away. Her gaze lingered, and for a moment I really didn't know what would happen next.

She pulled away and started fishing in the first aid kit for a band-aid.

"I was thinking," she began pensively, only glancing at me for a second. "About that guy."

"What about him?" I probed. She found a band-aid and began to strip it of its packaging.

"He looked pretty fit. You know, young and healthy." She replied.

"And?" I asked.

"Well, all of his wounds were on his front. He must have seen whoever- _whatever_ killed him coming." She wandered back over to me, fiddling with the band-aid between her fingers. She sighed, "I just feel like he should have been able to fight his attacker off, don't you?"

"Maybe he did," I offered. "Some of those wounds could have been self-defense."

She moved as though she were about to stick the band-aid on my head, but huffed suddenly and pulled away.

"But then why go after him in the first place?" She pouted, "why not pick out easier prey?"

"Maybe that's the point. Maybe his attacker wanted the challenge." I replied, my eyes fixated on the band-aid as Daphne placed it on my scrape. She held her fingers over it, pressing it down flat.

"Well," She smiled, "if there is someone out there going after hot young guys, you'd better watch your back, Fred Jones."

She stepped away, tossing the band-aid's packaging into the trash can before returning to the first aid kit on the counter. She gathered up its contents and shut the lid before carrying it over to the shelf from which she'd retrieved it.

"Hot?" I asked.

Daphne kept her back to me and hummed, as though she were very occupied with something on the other end of the kitchen. I wandered towards her, leaning against the marble counter she hovered over.

"That does raise an interesting question." I added, "what was it about that man that lead to him getting killed?"

Daphne shrugged. Turning to smile sweetly at me, she said, "something tells me you'll figure it out, Freddy."

I would like to go on the record saying that I had never considered myself attracted to Daphne Blake. Sure, we had always gotten along well, and I definitely thought of her as _attractive_ , but we had always been friends- and nothing more.

We were opposites- Daphne was the sort who let her emotions control everything she did, whereas I prided myself on being logical. That night I hadn't felt too logical as I thanked Daphne for the band-aid and drove back to my house- away from soft laughter and floral scented perfume, and towards a leathery Hell, living in which was a Devil I had yet to foresee. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Anyway, I had never considered myself attracted to Daphne Blake- until that night.

* * *

 **i hope i satisfied some of your fraphne needs! don't worry, there's more to come. also, i would really appreciate it if you guys could leave some reviews, so i know i'm on the right track! see you next week!**


	4. The Modern Machiavellian

**howdy doo, folks! i hope you enjoy chapter four! it was originally going to be two chapters, but it ended up as one long one. oops.**

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Chapter Four: The Modern Machiavellian

The second body had been found in a similar state to the first. It was a woman this time, by the name of Gloria Ramirez. Also found in a room at The Coolsville Ritz, also behind a locked door, and also in town for my father's summit. It was clear, at least to us, that what had once appeared to be a single unexplained death was really the first in a string of serial killings.

My dad scoffed at the idea, shaking his head at me as though I were a child. "Fred, my boy," he chuckled, "some things in life are simply unfortunate coincidences. An unhappy accident; that's all this is!"

He reached out to pat my shoulder, but I pulled away.

"How can you say that? People are dying! Don't you think that's worth investigating?" My father looked almost hurt at my suggestion that something more sinister than a few random animal attacks was happening in Coolsville. He glanced behind me, shooting a look at the gang, who hurried out of the room.

We were all alone now. We stood in the late Gloria Ramirez's hotel room, staring at each other. I couldn't see my own face, but I'm sure it was obvious that my blood was boiling. My dad searched my eyes, hoping for my stoic expression to crack, but I wasn't ready to budge just yet. He sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. It was clear just how disappointed he was in me.

"Fred," he sighed, "I know what it's like to be young- trust me. You think everything is the end of the world. And I understand that you're scared and confused, but I promise you that I won't let anything hurt you... But I can't protect you if you won't cooperate with me."

I could tell he was talking about what had happened at the morgue. It was my dad's favorite game- pretending he didn't know what I had done and guilting me into coming clean. Fortunately, I wasn't in the mood to play that day. Realizing that I couldn't be coerced, he kept going.

"There's no reason to be afraid, Fred. Whatever you think is happening is all up there," he said, poking my temple with a mayoral smile. "So, best to leave it alone, right? Tell you what- I'll get animal control to have a poke around these vents, see if they can't see what's going on, okay? How does that sound, kiddo?"

I hated "kiddo." It was one of my dad's many manipulation tactics. He only called me that when I wouldn't cooperate with him, as some twisted way to trick me into thinking he loved me and wanted what was best for me. I believed that he loved me, but over the years I'd gotten smart enough to understand that the only person whose best interests he kept in mind was himself.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, I had learned, and although I resented my father for his constant manipulation, sometimes it was necessary to sink to the level of your opponent. Swallowing hard, I tried to soften my expression.

"So," I said, clapping my hands together. "What did they do with the body?"

"I've asked that Sheriff Stone rule Ms. Ramirez's death as an accident, so I imagine they'll be keeping her in the morgue until one of her relatives comes to pick up the body." My dad shrugged, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"Oh, yeah?" I asked, "and who takes care of the delivery? The sheriff?"

My dad shook his head. "The ambulance. The EMTs just came for the body, as a matter of fact."

"Huh," I nodded, beginning to back out of the room. "Well, I guess I'll just be on my way, then. You know, head on down to the arcade with the gang. Like you said, maybe it is best that I just keep out of this mess- get back to my regularly scheduled shenanigans. Uh, good talk, dad."

When I entered the hall, my friends were all waiting for me. They perked up when they saw me, like dogs waiting for treats, and followed me down the hall. I didn't speak to them, too busy pulling strings inside my own mind.

The EMTs were just about to get into the ambulance as I jogged up to them. None of them looked as though they could have been more than a few years older than me. I rapped the driver's side door, grabbing their attention.

"Hey, fellas," I panted, pretending to be more out of sorts than I was. "They just found another victim up there- still alive. My dad wants you all back right away. He asked that I run the body to the morgue in my van."

The EMTs all burst to action, scrambling out of the ambulance. One opened the rear door and asked if I'd be okay carrying the body by myself, to which I nodded. In a hurry, he left to join the others, who all raced back into the Coolsville Ritz.

I tugged the black body bag partially out of the ambulance and handed the one end to Shaggy, who struggled under the weight. I hopped inside, grabbing the other end myself and carrying it out. Velma and Daphne shut the back doors behind us as I hurried over to the van.

"Why are we leaving?" Velma asked impatiently, "If there's a living victim up there, they could potentially identify the attacker. Don't you want to question them?"

"Oh, I would _love_ the question them." I replied, sliding the body bag into the back of my van. "If there were a living victim."

Velma, Shaggy and Scooby all piled into the back of the van, careful not to get too close to the body, which was starting to give off a foul smell. I hopped into the driver's seat, started the engine and sped away from the crime scene.

"Are you telling me we stole this woman's body?" Daphne yelled

She swatted at my arm, trying to distract me from the task at hand, which happened to be finding somewhere to hide this body (and the four of us). I hadn't thought this plan through all the way, but it was certainly more evolved than running out into the morgue parking lot like a madman.

I pulled a sharp right into an alleyway, and then a left into another one. I found myself in a shady and dismal area the likes of which I didn't know existed in the notoriously pristine town of Coolsville. Pressed between a series of brick buildings I didn't recognize, I drove slowly and tentatively over cracked pavement until I noticed a single parking space, tucked behind a dumpster. A sign hung above it which read "authorized parking only; all others will be towed." I decided that the sign was more of a loose suggestion than an instruction, and reversed into the spot.

Once the van was stopped, I climbed over my seat and into the back, where Shaggy, Scooby and Velma all stared at me with wide eyes.

"Care to tell us what the hell is going on?" Velma snapped. I leaned over and unzipped the body bag. An awful stench filled the van. Shaggy gagged a little and Daphne began to crank her window down.

"You're going to perform an autopsy." I stated simply.

"Are you insane? I can't perform an autopsy on this woman!" She shot back.

"Why not?" I asked. "You did it last night."

"That was different!" Velma cried. "I was just re-examining someone else's work. I don't have the proper training to do this myself- and even if I did, I don't have the proper tools. I don't even have a scalpel!"

I dug into my pocket and pulled out my Swiss army knife. I tossed it at Velma, who looked as though I'd just thrown her a bomb. She continued to argue with me, and it wasn't until I'd resorted to begging that she'd agreed.

Her fingers shook as she made the first incision into the woman. She grimaced as she opened her body up, her sloppy work obvious to everyone. Velma reached out and grasped the stomach, her hands covered in blood already. She sawed into the organ until she was able to look inside. A hush fell over us all as she reached a finger inside the stomach and began to examine its contents.

"This woman ingested the same drug that Steven Adams took before he died," She mumbled, clearly having a hard time believing her findings as she dipped her finger back into Gloria Ramirez's stomach.

"So that does it." Daphne breathed. She'd recently taken Shaggy's spot in the back of the van, allowing him and Scooby to go and act as our lookouts. The severity of our situation was clearly beginning to take a toll on her. I reached out and took her hand and she offered me a weak smile in return.

Velma nodded. "One man dying after taking a mysterious drug could be coincidence, but two?" She wiped her forehead with her wrist. "These deaths were no accident, you guys."

* * *

To Shaggy, the distinction between drug dealer and ex-drug dealer was a very important one. Curtis, who sat across the booth from us in the Burger Binge, eating is all-day breakfast as though it were his first meal in a week, was Shaggy's ex-drug dealer. It only lasted six months, after Shaggy's father had died, and he swore he hadn't done anything hard. Details aside, Curtis seemed to be our only shot at sourcing the mysterious black drug we'd found in our victims' bodies.

I tossed a small Ziploc bag filled with the substance across the table. Curtis dropped his cutlery, pausing to wipe his hands on his pants before picking up the baggie that had landed in front of him.

"Yeah, I'm familiar," he sneered. "What's it to you?"

I looked at Shaggy, who'd come with me to meet Curtis- partly because he was our connection and partly because I'd tasked Daphne and Velma with burying Gloria Ramirez's body by the riverbank. Shaggy shrugged.

"That's none of your concern." I replied unsurely. "Just tell us what you know."

Curtis chuckled at me, tossing a strip of bacon into his mouth.

"Allow me to teach you something about my business, Dobie Gillis." He smirked. "Information ain't free. You want me to go down quietly, you'd better make it worth my time."

I huffed, reaching into my pocket and pulling out two twenty dollar bills from my wallet. I flicked them in his direction. Curtis caught them eagerly and shoved the money into his oversized jacket.

"It's not my stuff." He started, leaning in close so only Shaggy and I could hear him. "I don't know whose it is. First shipment came into town on a Cessna the day before yesterday- a tiny little package with no return address. I get texts from a blocked number telling me when and where to drop it off."

"When's the next drop?" I asked.

"Later tonight, as a matter of fact. Some place called The Silver Angel- piano bar, I think." Curtis leaned back with a shrug, returning to work on his breakfast.

The Silver Angel was one of Coolsville's more refined establishments. It was the classiest place in town, always smelling of Cuban cigars and Dior perfume. I'd never been inside, but the people who left were always dressed exquisitely, the men in tuxedos and the women in fur and diamonds. Tonight, The Silver Angel would host all of the politicians in town for my father's summit for a private party. Luckily, I had an in with the mayor.

"You know the place, Freddy?" Shaggy asked, noticing that my wheels were turning.

"My dad's having a party there tonight." I replied. "I'd be willing to bet that I could get in."

The bell on the door rang, and in scurried Daphne and Velma. They didn't approach us, but instead stood near the exit. They tapped their feet, waved their arms, and raised their eyebrows at Shaggy and I, silently calling us over. We excused ourselves, rushing over to meet the girls.

"We have a problem." Daphne began.

"What?" I asked.

"We can't leave the body by the river." Velma replied, speaking at a mile a minute. "Some guy saw us. If the body turned up there, we'd have a witness. It's too much of a liability- we have to drive it out of town."

I groaned, even though I had no right to. It was me who'd gotten us into this mess in the first place. I'd been the one to steal the body, and insist that Velma perform an autopsy- but it was my friends who were shivering and afraid, stressed over where to hide it.

"Where is it now?" I sighed.

"We left it hidden by the riverbank. We need the van to go back and get it." Daphne said.

"Alright," I started, "Shaggy, you take Velma and the van and go find the body. Drive it out of town, but be fast- you only have about three hours of sunlight left."

"What about me?" Daphne asked.

"You're going to help me with something else." I said, pulling a twig out of her hair. She nodded. "Tell me, Daph, do you own any diamonds?"

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 **i hope you loved chapter four! chapter five has got lots of fraphne, for those who are into that sort of thing. also, i've been trying to post every wednesday, but because of christmas, i'll either post chapter five next saturday, or i'll just skip next week all together.**


	5. Where Angels Sing

**hey everybody! look at me, keeping my normal posting schedule even though I thought I'd have to skip this week! also, _IMPORTANT**_ , if you're just tuning back in, i accidentally didn't post the last paragraph of chapter 4! i just added it, so, go read the *actual* ending if you haven't yet!**

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Chapter Five: Where Angels Sing

Walking into Daphne's bedroom really felt like stepping into the mind of a teenage girl. Her walls were painted a light purple and covered in posters of celebrities from top to bottom. Her bed had a sheer lilac canopy over it and was a home to a ruffled white bedspread and about a thousand different stuffed animals. Clothes covered the floor and various beauty products were spread out across her large vanity.

I tugged on my bow tie. Tonight, Daphne and I would be going undercover at The Silver Angel, as guests of my father's. He hadn't invited us, but I knew he would have been overjoyed if he thought I was taking to politics, and even more so if he thought I had a date (he had never liked Daphne, but with my track record, I was sure she'd have been better than nothing). The plan was to stakeout the back exit- where Curtis would be dropping the drugs- and see who picked them up. It would go off without a hitch, provided that my dad didn't spend the night trying to show me off to his rich politician friends.

Daphne stepped out of the bathroom. She was dressed in a long, white dress, which split up the leg and fell elegantly off her shoulders. Her hair and makeup had been done- a rare occurrence for Daphne. She almost didn't look like herself anymore, but rather as though she were a movie star about to walk the red carpet.

She gripped her diamond necklace awkwardly and made her way towards me. It was ironic, her appearance gave off a distinct aura of class and grace, but her gate was still as clunky and clumsy as ever. She stopped in front of me and turned around slowly, revealing the unclasped zipper which showed off most of her freckled back.

"Do me up?" She asked with a nervous chuckle. She reached back and pulled her hair over one shoulder. I loosened my bow tie again.

My hands shook as I took hold of the zipper, which rested just north of her tailbone. I placed my other hand delicately on her waist to prevent the dress from riding up as I carefully closed the zipper.

"What do you think?" Daphne asked, turning her head slightly over one shoulder.

"You look-" I paused, choosing my next words carefully. "You look really pretty. You'll fit right in, Daph."

She turned back around, looking me up and down.

"Your tie's all messed up." She said. She stepped closer to me, taking my tie in her hands and undoing what had been a sorry excuse for a bow. She began to tie it again, much tighter this time. Her eyes didn't leave my neck as she worked, but mine remained glued on her.

She glanced up at me once she had finished, and we just stared at each other for what felt like a year. Daphne blushed, finally drawing her eyes back towards the floor.

"I used to do my dad's tie every day." She said, a hint of wistfulness present in her voice.

"Not anymore?" I asked.

"Fathers can't be your hero forever, I guess." She shrugged. "It's part of growing up."

* * *

The sun was starting to go down as we walked arm in arm down Main Street. I could see a crowd beginning to form around The Silver Angel and could hear smooth piano music coming from inside. The ladies outside the bar all glared at Daphne, and I couldn't help but feel proud that she was my date- even if it were fake.

The bouncer recognized me immediately, and didn't even bother to check his list before letting me and Daphne in. The biggest perk of being the mayor's son, I had realized, was people always assumed that you were doing what you were supposed to. They never questioned you.

The Silver Angel looked just as I had imagined; a dimly lit, smoke filled room, with a long mahogany bar and a sunken lounge, where an older man plucked away at a grand piano. Politicians flooded the room, but I couldn't seem to place my father, which I figured was a good thing.

Daphne took a seat at the bar, and I followed after her. The bartender, whom I was sure also knew me, placed two beers in front of Daphne and I with a wink. I rolled my eyes.

"Is that the spot?" Daphne whispered, tilting her head towards what appeared to be the rear exit. I nodded.

"Curtis should be here soon." I glanced around, still searching for my father. Daphne chuckled at this.

"If I didn't know you better, Freddy, I'd say you were nervous." She said, grabbing her beer and popping it open on the edge of the bar. A few people stared at her, having expected such a pretty girl to be a bit more gentile. She didn't notice them as she raised the beer to her lips and took a long swig.

"I'm not nervous, I'm just trying to get my bearings." I said. "If shit hits the fan, I want to be ready."

Daphne laughed at this. "Ooh," she goaded, "listen to Mr. Big, cussing up a storm like some kind of hot shot."

"Will you quit it?" I joked, bumping her with my shoulder. She bumped me back, a little bit harder.

Daphne's eyes narrowed in an attempt at mock concern. "So, Freddy," she began, leaning her elbow on the table and allowing her temple to settle against her clenched fist. "What makes me so qualified to be your fake date?"

I felt my mouth get dry, and my bow tie suddenly become too tight again. "Now I'm nervous," I said.

"I make you nervous?" Daphne smirked and shimmied her shoulders. She must have thought I was the most pitiful sight in the world.

"It's not that," I backpedaled. "I mean, you don't make me nervous... That's not to say that I'm not attracted to you, because I am. I mean-"

I noticed Daphne staring at something behind me with laser-like focus. Thankful for the distraction, I turned to see what she was so focused on.

Next to the back door, we could see Curtis. He eyed his surroundings carefully before pulling a small brown package out of his coat and tucking it into a vase. He shot us a quick wink before disappearing out the back door.

We sat in silence, both watching the vase out of the corners of our eyes. It didn't take long before a man approached it. He was fairly young and stood at around 5'10", with medium brown hair- leaving him with exactly zero identifying features. The plain man reached into the vase and pulled the package out swiftly, before darting out the back door.

Daphne and I hurried out of our seats to follow him into the parking lot. The sun had set, leaving the street lamps as the only source of light. We took a moment to scan the area, trying to place the man somewhere within the shadows.

"There!" Daphne whispered, tugging on my arm as she pointed across the crowded lot, where the man was climbing into a black pickup truck. We made our way towards him, speeding up to a power walk as we got closer.

I caught the man's eye through his rear view mirror and that was all it took. He slammed on the gas and sped out of the lot, pulling out onto Main Street just as Daphne and I made it to his now empty parking spot.

"Damnit!" I cried. "We lost him. Now what?"

A mischievous smirked played at Daphne's lips.

"Not yet, Freddy." She said. "We can still catch up to him." Daphne appeared giddy as she began to hurry back towards the exit of The Silver Angel.

"How?" I called, raising my arms as I followed after her. "Shaggy and Velma have the van!"

I reached the place where Daphne had stopped, my eyes widening as I saw what stood before us.

There in front of us was a jet black BMW K1200S, which Daphne grinned at as though she were a child gazing upon their Halloween loot. I shuddered.

"Care for a ride?" She teased, tossing me the royal blue helmet which sat on the bike's passenger seat.

"We're not stealing a motorcycle." I said firmly, placing the helmet back down.

"Why not?" She asked innocently, dragging a finger along the handlebars as she skirted around the bike. She poked out her bottom lip. "We stole a body."

I supposed she had me there. I tapped my foot, nervously eyeing the empty area around us. There wasn't a body in sight, save for the cars in Main Street.

"Do you even know how to hot wire a bike?" I asked.

This seemed to have been permission enough for Daphne, why giggled maniacally as she tossed the helmet back to me. She knelt forward at the front of the motorcycle and pulled a speaker wire from out her purse, muttering something about how a girl could never be too prepared as she began to fiddle with the wiring of the bike. After a few moments she sat down on the bike and pressed the ignition button. The engine roared to life, and Daphne snickered with excitement, urging me to get on the motorcycle.

I swung my leg over the bike, gingerly sitting down behind Daphne. I took hold of her waist gently to stable myself, which made her laugh.

"You're gonna want to hold on tighter than that." She said with a smirk.

Before I had the chance to adjust myself, Daphne tore out of the parking lot of The Silver Angel and pulled the bike out onto Main Street. She raced down the road, zipping through red lights and swerving between vehicles, racing not only against the black pickup truck, but against herself. To Daphne, I could tell that this was about more than catching a criminal. This was something she had to prove.

Ever since puberty, Daphne had always been the most beautiful girl in any room she entered. It was an existence that would have felt like a dream to most girls our age, but to Daphne, her good looks had always felt like a curse. It was never something I'd fully understood, but Daphne had always been adamant that the more attractive you were, the more people treated you like an object. People had always looked at Daphne and assumed that she was delicate and incapable (something I too was guilty of), so she had devoted most of her time to proving that she wasn't.

It started with the motorcycle- something she had thought would rough up her image to balance out her softer appearance. She learned the hard way that girls with bikes were a "thing," and decided to add in archery. Then fencing. Then karate. Before she knew it, Daphne had become the gang's resident badass, and she was careful not to let anyone lose sight of that fact.

But between the tight dress and the cheeky flirting, Daphne's armor was beginning to slip, and a car chase was the perfect way to remind me that she wasn't like other girls.

As if I could forget.

* * *

 **the next chapter is probably my favorite one so far, things really hit the fan! and, seriously this time, it'll probably be late.**


	6. The Devil's Playground

**get ready for chapter 6, folks- she's a real doozy! things get really and truly wild**

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Chapter Six: The Devil's Playground

We caught up to the black pickup just as it was taking the west road out of town. Daphne was careful to keep us at a safe distance- close enough that the driver couldn't shake us off of his tail, and far away enough that he wouldn't see a reason to.

We followed the truck away from the coast and into the thick Massachusetts forest, skirting down winding roads and through dense brush. During the day, it was a beautiful road, but by nightfall, the woods became something to be feared. There was something sinister just beyond the tree line. I had only suspected it as a child, but that was the night it proved to be true.

Daphne called back to check on me for the fourth time, but it was her I was worried about. She had no helmet, and her arms and shoulders were bare. It was unseasonably cold that night, and I could see goosebumps forming on her arms and shoulders as a result of the relentless wind. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and run my hands along the exposed skin to warm it up, but between the foreboding aura that surrounded us as my fear of Daphne's reckless driving, I was too afraid to let go of her waist.

The truck's red brake lights flashed about a hundred yards ahead of us, and we slowed down to watch him turn down a long driveway and disappear into the trees. We followed him, tentatively, and by the time we reached the end of the long dirt path, he had disappeared.

"Well," Daphne said, shutting off the bike's engine. "Land ho."

We pushed the bike into the bushes, where it would remain hidden from the view of any passing cars, and stared down the driveway. It was nearly pitch black, the only light coming from the crescent moon, which hung low in the sky.

Daphne pulled a small flashlight out of her purse and illuminated the path ahead of us. Although the forest was scary at night, it had almost been less frightening when it had been too dark to see. Now, I was forced to look at it. Daphne grabbed my sleeve and we began to make our way down the lane.

She stumbled and took a fistful of my suit to steady herself with, her high heels not agreeing with the rocky terrain. Daphne cussed through gritted teeth, clearly doing her best to mute the sound of chattering. Her gaze didn't leave the ground as we continued to walk, and I could tell that she was beginning to regret her fashion choice. It was rare to see Daphne looking so vulnerable, and I couldn't deny enjoying the change in the power dynamic.

"I take it that magic purse of yours isn't equipped with a change of clothes?" I joked, elbowing her playfully in the ribs. She didn't laugh, and instead shot me a dirty look before turning back towards the ground.

Sighing, I stopped walking and began to take off my jacket. Daphne paused as well, raising an eyebrow as she turned the flashlight towards me. I held my jacket out for her to take, but she just stared at me as though I were the biggest idiot on the planet.

"Well?" I asked, nudging the jacket towards her. "You're cold, aren't you?"

Those were dangerous waters. I knew that. Daphne hated when people tried to do things for her, especially guys and _especially_ when the favor was so clichéd. This was the hat trick of bad moves, but with Daphne looking so desperate, I was willing to face the consequences.

Finally, she snatched the jacket out of my hand, muttering, "you're such a dork," as she begrudgingly pulled it on. We continued to walk, and I noticed a hint of a smile on her face. I opened my mouth to say something else, but her smile suddenly dropped to a look of horror and confusion.

I turned to see what she was looking at and my attention was immediately caught by the log cabin which stood in front of us. Its windows were all barred and covered with plywood from the inside, and the only point of entry appeared to be the windowless iron door, which seemed like a clear indicator that we'd found exactly what we were looking for. The black pickup was parked in front of the cabin, although the driver was nowhere to be seen.

"Think he's inside?" Daphne asked, shutting off the flashlight and tucking it back into her purse.

"I'd be willing to bet on it." I whispered.

We reached the front door of the cabin and Daphne immediately bent down and pulled two bobby pins out of their hair, bending one open before sliding them both into the lock.

"Hold on!" I breathed. "What if he's in there?"

"Then I'll make him wish he weren't." She smirked, flashing a can of pepper spray inside of her purse.

Daphne turned the knob gingerly and the door cracked open. She shone her flashlight inside, doing a quick scan of the room. Nothing stuck out as strange to us. It was a simple, one room cabin, with a quaint kitchenette and two large recliners positioned in front of a stone fireplace. Most notably, the man driving the pickup was clearly not inside.

Slowly, we stepped into the cabin, the floors creating obnoxiously as we did so. I suggested to Daphne that we had better split up, and we each veered off to a different area. While Daphne began to explore the cupboards (which she soon discovered to all be empty), I made my way towards the small living area. I stepped onto the cow hide rug and immediately noticed that something was amiss.

"Daph, check this out." I said. She wandered over towards me and I didn't waste time showing off what I had discovered. I stomped on the ground just a few feet away from the rug, producing a small thud. Next, I stomped again, this time on the rug. There was a much more definitive boom, which appeared to echo beneath the floor.

"Hollow," she noted, raising her eyebrows.

We each picked up a section of the raw hide rug, Daphne making a sour face as she felt the coarse hairs between her fingers. Between the less than tasteful rug and the aroma of cigar smoke which flooded the room, it was clear that the cabin belonged to a man. Whether that man was our pickup driver, or if he was merely a pawn in a larger operation, were factors unknown.

We pushed aside the rug, and at first we didn't realize what we were looking at. Upon closer inspection, I noticed the carved out shape of a rectangle within the old pine floor boards, and the iron handle which protruded from the side. I knelt down towards the floor and tugged up slightly on the handle, the doorway of what was clearly a hidden passage lifting slightly. I dropped the handle and the door slammed shut, a cloud of dust puffing up into my face.

I turned to Daphne, squinting under the scrutinizing beam of her flashlight. She nodded at me slightly, and I lifted the handle again, this time pushing the door all the way open and allowing it to rest against the worn leather of the two reclining chairs.

She shone her light into the passage, revealing a concrete staircase which disappeared into a sea of darkness.

"What do you think's down there?" I asked as I stood up, brushing the dust off of my black trousers. By the time I reached Daphne's side, she was already making her way down the stairs. I followed carefully after her, placing my hand against the cold wall to support myself.

Daphne reached up and pulled on the bathtub chain which hung from the ceiling, and the once pitch black room was flooded with a soft pink light. The room was small, and entirely made of concrete. Two rows of metal tables filled the space, each one equipped with a microscope, a small bowl of empty black pill capsules, and various small metal instruments, most of which I didn't recognize. Sitting on the table closest to us was the small brown package which Curtis had dropped at The Silver Angel.

"It's a drug lab." Daphne scoffed, picking up one of the strange metal instruments and beginning to inspect it.

"We don't know that." I countered. I snatched the utensil out of Daphne's hand and began to polish it with my tie, which I then used in place of a glove to carefully set it down exactly where she had grabbed it from. By the time I looked back up, she was already touching something else. I rolled my eyes.

"Yes we do." Daphne said very matter-of-factly, dropping something on the table in front of me. I picked the object up and brought it close to my face, furrowing by brow as I attempted to make out what exactly I was looking at. It looked like a gum package, or a sleeve of medication. It did contain pills, but they were jet black- unlike any medicine I'd ever encountered.

"I'd be willing to bet," she began, "that whatever's in those pills is the same drug that Shaggy's pal Curtis has been shuttling- the same stuff that's been in all of our victim's stomachs"

Daphne reached out and took the package delicately from my hands. She undid the clasp on her pink suede purse and dropped the pills inside.

"What are you doing?" I snapped.

"I want to keep these." She replied. "I have a feeling that they'll come in handy."

"You're insane." I noted as Daphne went back to touching everything in sight. She leaned down and peered through the microscope on one of the tables, turning the knobs mindlessly.

"You're into it." She noted with a sly smirk. My palms grew sweaty at the suggestion, and I felt a lump grow in my throat. Desperate for something to do with my hands, I began to roll up the sleeves of my button-up as I made my way towards Daphne.

"Yeah," I said, my voice hitching slightly, "I am."

Daphne stood back up silently, a shy smile playing at her lips. She leaned against the table, raising her brows at me expectantly. My mouth dried up instantly.

"That was stupid." I sputtered, not knowing what else to say. I scratched the back of my neck, looking anywhere in the room but at Daphne.

She stepped towards me, taking my face gently in her hand and pulling my gaze down towards her.

"Stupid? Fred Jones?" She teased, giggling slightly as she spoke. "Impossible."

I chuckled, and before I knew it Daphne was drawing my face down towards her own. Her beer-stained breath tickled my face and my eyes fluttered shut out of sheer bliss. I reached a hand out and cupped the back of her head, her soft hair sending tingles up my wrist. I could sense our mouths growing closer together, right up to the point where I could feel the warmth of her lips only millimeters away from my own. Then everything stopped, and we heard the front door of the cabin open, and the floorboards squeak as two more bodies entered the building.

Daphne pushed me away and we each began to scramble as the two people upstairs grew nearer. We dove behind one of the metal tables, our hands pressed against our own mouths to prevent any sound from coming out. Daphne squeezed on my other hand with all her might, but the act didn't feel romantic. We were terrified for our lives.

The two people made their way into the basement, heavy footsteps pounding against the concrete steps in time with our racing hearts.

"You're sure it was them?" A first voice asked sternly. "A blonde boy and a redhead?"

I cocked an eyebrow at the sound of the voice. There was something so familiar about it, but I couldn't quite place it at the time.

"I didn't get a good look at the boy, but she was a ginger. Hot, too- I know I would have liked to-"

Daphne rolled her eyes in disgust as the second man, presumably the man in the pickup, finished his rather perverted thought.

"At least they didn't take this." The first man said, no doubt referring to the package the pickup driver had dropped off. His voice was calloused and deep, and my mind raced trying to figure out who the owner was.

"Yeah," The second man added, "Looks like they're long gone now. Probably heard us comin' and snuck out the back."

My eyes perked up at this. We hadn't noticed a back exit when we'd first entered the cabin, but if there was one it could prove useful for my and Daphne's escape.

"I suppose you're right," The first man said, retreating back up the stairs. "We'd best tread carefully from here on out. They're clearly hot on our trail already, and my son is nothing if not persistent."

And then I recognized the voice.

We sat in silence for about twenty minutes after my dad left the basement, unmoving and in the pitch black, afraid that they'd be waiting for us when we tried to leave. The truth hung in the air between us, neither of us daring to touch on the subject.

I felt like I could scream. And so I did. I stormed out of the cabin and into the dirt driveway and began to scream over and over again until my voice hurt and my hands felt numb in the wind. I took fistfuls of my hair in my hands and yanked as hard as I could, just hoping to release all the energy that had built up in my body.

"Freddy, stop!" I heard Daphne call. She ran up to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "We don't know that-"

"Forget it, Daphne." I snapped through heavy breaths. "We're done! Mystery solved! My father's a killer- or a drug lord, or whatever the fuck is going on here... Let's just go back home."

* * *

We were silent until Daphne pulled the BMW to a stop in front of my house. My dad's car wasn't in the driveway, but the van was. I supposed that meant that Shaggy and Velma had had more luck than Daphne and I.

"You're taking this back, right?" I asked as I climbed off the back of the bike, handing Daphne my bright blue helmet.

"Are you kidding?" She snorted. "Finders-keepers!"

I didn't have the energy to tell her she was committing a felony. I doubted she would have cared.

She didn't drive off right away. Instead she sat there watching me, her eyes sad and wistful, like someone who had just watched an infomercial about starving children in Africa, or rescue puppies that had been beaten and left for dead. In a way, it was sort of how I felt.

"Goodnight, Freddy." She said finally, pulling on the helmet and lifting the kickstand.

"Night, Daph." I mumbled.

I didn't bother turning on the light as I trudged into my bedroom. The digital clock which sat next to my bed blared the time (twelve-forty-seven a.m.) with a dark red glow, and that was enough for me. I traded my button-down and slacks for jeans and a hoodie, hoping for not only comfort, but for something that could hide my identity. I took the duffel bag from the top shelf of my closet and began to load it full of clothes and toiletries.

As I left my bedroom, something caught my eye: a framed photo which sat on my desk, of me and my father after one of my baseball games. I'd hit the winning home run, and my team had been ecstatic. They had been chanting my name as they hoisted me up onto their shoulders, and all I could see from that high up was my father, standing and clapping in the bleachers with the other parents. It was the only time he'd ever looked proud of me. We took the photo as soon as my team put me back on the ground.

I brought the photo with me as well.

I swung the door of my dirty white van open and tossed the duffel bag inside. I glared at the picture in my hand, squatting down and placing it on the pavement right behind to front wheel before getting into the van.

I caught my own reflection in the rear view mirror. My face was tear stained, but I didn't remember crying. My blue eyes were puffy and red, with bags underneath them. I looked almost as bad as I felt.

I heard the picture frame crunch as I reversed over it and out of the driveway.

That was the last time I ever saw my house.

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 **oh boy things sure are heating up! i'll probably post chapter 7 early, and i'm really excited for it! make sure you leave a review!**


	7. Kingdom Come

**hey guys! one bonus chapter, as promised! i actually really loved this chapter.**

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Chapter Seven: Kingdom Come

There's a moment after every haircut, when the barber holds up a mirror to the back of your head and asks how it looks. From the unfamiliar angle, you feel as though you're staring at a stranger. That's how I felt when I heard my dad at the cabin the previous night. I'd always known him to be a liar (and a cheater, and manipulative, and selfish), but being dishonest and being a criminal weren't exactly the same. The man from last night wasn't my father- not as I knew him, anyway.

The east end of Coolsville was a wasteland. Half of all the business were closed down, leaving ransacked and vandalized shells in their place. The swing sets in the park were all broken, and the swirly plastic slide was decorated with cigarette burns. A horrible smell filled the air, and trash filled the streets. This was the side of town where people like Curtis were from. To me, these were uncharted waters.

In the heart of the East Side was Paradise Motel, a title which warranted a false advertising claim, I was sure. In a word, it was tacky- a decaying one story building covered in red and blue neon signs which screamed its vacancy to any passers-by. I doubted it was ever full. Fake palm trees surrounded the parking lot in an ill-advised attempt to fool its patrons into thinking they were somewhere nice, like California or Arizona.

But the crowning glory of Paradise Motel was the huge sign which sat in front of it- the tallest free-standing structure in the whole East Side. It was a grotesque hot pink sign, with a huge lit up arrow pointing towards the motel ("lit up" is a generous term, at least half of the blinding light bulbs were burnt out). The words, "Welcome to Paradise!" were written in cursive with an electric blue neon tube. Just beneath it, a marquee sign read, "POOL CL SED 4 CLEANING." This monstrous excuse for advertisement was directly within view of my window- its vile lights careening into my suite at all times.

I had been staying in the Honeymoon Suite, solely because my gut instinct told me it was probably the least slept in room. I doubted anyone would come here unless they couldn't afford anything better, in which case, hey- skip the honeymoon and save the cash. I found a crusty old sock in my bed, but that didn't change my opinion that I was in the cleanest room in the motel.

I hadn't seen any of the other suites but, from what I could tell, there were three things that set the Honeymoon Suite apart from the other rooms at Paradise Motel:

1) The red polyester duvet cover and matching pillowcases, which had been sprinkled with rose petals upon my arrival.

2) The ceiling mirror that hung directly above the king sized bed.

3) About 50,000 fluffy pillows.

Other than those three things, the Honeymoon Suite was just your standard grungy motel room.

I had spent the whole day sleeping with a heart-shaped throw pillow draped over my face to block out the light. Staying in bed, I had decided, was the easiest way to forget that one's father was operating a drug ring, and that his product had appeared in the stomach of two local murder victims.

Not that any of that mattered. I was done trying to work this case. Done trying to be someone I wasn't. I was no hero. It was something I had suspected ever since the night we snuck into the morgue, but now I knew it was true. We had all the pieces we needed to solve this case, but I was too much of a coward to put them all together. So afraid of upsetting the status quo that I was willing to let a criminal walk free.

My new plan was much safer: lay low for the rest of the summer, then drive as far away as I could and never look back. I'd let my father do whatever he wanted, and his secrets would die with me. It was a dishonorable path, no doubt, but I didn't see another option that didn't endanger me and my friends.

A knock came on my door, and I debated for a moment whether it was even worth answering. The knock returned, slightly more hurried this time, and I groaned as I tossed the heart shaped pillow to the ground, pulling myself out of bed as though my body weighed a million tons. Only pausing for a moment to sniff my armpits (which smelt like death itself, but I didn't care), I trudged toward the door and slowly pulled it open, rubbing my eyes in the evening light.

There in front of me stood Daphne, Velma, Shaggy, and Scooby, holding a tray of four milkshakes and a grocery bag filled with what my nose told me were four orders of The Burger Binge's all-day breakfast special, pancakes with scrambled eggs and bacon.

The gang did their best to smile as though nothing were wrong, save for Velma, who pushed her glasses up her nose and remarked, "You look like shit."

Shaggy elbowed her in the gut.

I stepped out of the way and my friends all filed into the Honeymoon Suite, loitering awkwardly in the space between the king sized bed and the television. I grabbed the remote control and tucked it aside, fearing that one of them might turn on the set and discover the pay-per-view porn I'd been watching a few hours before.

Daphne sat down on the corner of the bed, the only space where the covers hadn't been erratically jumbled around.

"Well, Fred," she said with an obviously fake smile, "you certainly seem comfortable in your new accommodations."

I huffed, crawling back into bed. I propped up my pillows so I could sit upright and shook out the blankets before letting them fall back onto me. Daphne shot me a patronizing smile, not even trying to disguise how adorably pitiful she found my situation. She crawled up towards me, resting her head on my shoulder and reaching out for my hand, which she held as though I were the most delicate object in the world.

"Vanilla, right?" Shaggy asked, handing me a milkshake. He handed Daphne a strawberry one, which she cradled like a baby might cradle its bottle.

He and Velma sat down on the end of the bed, clearly a little bit disgusted.

"So," Velma started, "Daphne filled us in on last night's reconnaissance mission. I think this gives us a strong starting point, but there are still questions that need to be answered. For example, how does your father's drug connect to the victims' deaths? What's been attacking them?"

"Hold on," I said. My voice came out quiet and groggy. It was the first time I'd spoken in nearly twenty-four hours. "I'm out, you guys."

"Dude, you can't be 'out,'" Shaggy chuckled. "If anything, you've gotten yourself even further in."

"No, Shaggy," I replied sternly, placing my milkshake on the bedside table, "I'm not doing this anymore. I can't. Not with my dad mixed up in everything. I'm sorry, I just don't have what it takes to go up against him."

"Fred," Velma warned with a this-had-better-be-a-joke scoff, "we've unlocked a major conspiracy here. This is bigger than you're insubstantial relationship with your father. This is life or death, maybe even for us."

"No," I repeated, "It's only life or death if we stay on this. You guys have to back off. Let's just try and enjoy the rest of the summer, and then in a few weeks we can go our separate ways."

"Come on, Freddy-" Daphne began, but I cut her off with a stern glare.

An awkward silence hung throughout the room. Daphne, Velma, and Shaggy all shot looks at each other, mouthing the words to an argument they didn't want me to be a part of. I stared at my hands.

This was all my fault. There was no denying it. I wished more than anything that I'd never had the stupid idea to break into the morgue. I could have lived the rest of my life in blissful ignorance of who my father really was. Maybe the gang could have actually enjoyed the rest of the summer, rather than spending it staring awkwardly at each other in a cheap motel room, probably all wishing that they'd never met me.

We sat like that, quietly and uncomfortably, for at least a few minutes, before Shaggy glanced up into the ceiling mirror and asked, "do you guys remember when we went to the playground to watch Daphne shoot paintballs at trees?"

"That was last week, Shaggy," Velma noted, falling back onto the bed. "It's not like we'd forget."

"It feels like forever ago," he said, "but still. That was one of the best nights of my life."

"Remember when Daphne nailed that squirrel by accident?" Velma added wistfully.

"And then we saw Sheriff Stone coming out of the coffee shop across the street," Daphne added, stifling a laugh, "and I tried to shoot him in the head-"

"But you hit his badge instead!" Shaggy finished. "God, then he spilt his hot chocolate all over his shirt."

"'Aw, my cocoa!'" Daphne and Velma cried out in unison, quoting what Sheriff Stone had exclaimed as his boiling hot chocolate had poured all down his front.

The three of them erupted into laughter, and I couldn't help but chuckle with them. It felt good, just to laugh with my friends and not have to worry about the murderers and drug dealers that had recently taken over my life. I finally felt as though I could breathe.

We ate our all-day breakfasts in bed together, laughing and talking until the early hours of the morning before we finally fell asleep.

I'd spent the entire day dipping in and out of uneasy slumber, but I hadn't felt well rested until just then. Prior to my friends' visit, I'd been sleeping to avoid. Chasing away the demons that seemed to lurk around every corner. That night I felt safer than I had in a long time, and I slept simply because I was exhausted.

But it didn't last.

I woke up the next morning and was immediately faced with sensory overload. The TV was blaring out local news, and the gang were all gone- all except Velma, who was repeatedly swatting my bare chest with the fluffy heart-shaped pillow.

"What's going on?" I groaned, rubbing my eyes lazily.

"There was another attack!" Velma cried, grabbing my blankets and pulling them off of me. "Get up!"

I snatched the pillow from her hand and threw it across the room. "I told you guys," I warned, "we're done with this stuff." I sat up, throwing my legs off the side of the bed and running my hands through my disheveled hair.

Velma picked up the pillow and whipped it back at me, hitting me square in the head.

"Alive, meathead!" She yelled.

My head snapped up at this. I glanced towards the television, where a news broadcaster relayed the incident. A third politician had been found in the lobby of the Coolsville Ritz, claiming to have just barely escaped the clutches of a large animal, which attacked him in his room. The man was immediately rushed to the hospital, where he was currently being held in the ICU.

Velma made her way towards the door, pausing just as she was about to leave.

"Get dressed," she said, "the gang's already in the van."

I wanted to argue, but there was no point. I'd drive the gang to the hospital to satisfy their curiosity, and then we could be done. Besides, this living victim would probably just tell us that it was a bear or bobcat that attacked him. Then we could really close the book on this mystery.

I nodded sleepily, standing up and reaching for the white tee shirt which sat at the top of my duffel bag.

"Oh, and Fred?" Velma said, tossing me the TV remote, which I caught clumsily. "You know the porn on the internet is free, right?"

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 **that was chapter 7/14! hope you enjoyed! chapter 8 will be out on thursday!**


	8. Unusual Suspects

**hey! sorry i'm late posting, i know i promised chapter 8 on thursday, but there were technical difficulties.**

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Chapter Eight: Unusual Suspects

We didn't have the name of the victim, but he was easy to spot in the ICU. Among all the beds filled with the sick or injured was a space that had been closed off with a pale blue curtain, with several doctors dipping in and out. The space was guarded by two men- the sheriff and the mayor.

My stomach did a flop and I glanced towards the door we had just entered through, wondering how quickly the receptionist could unlock it for me and how suspicious that would look. I took a step back, but felt Daphne place a hand on my shoulder, pulling me down slightly as she leaned up towards me.

"Be cool," she whispered through gritted teeth. "Just remember: there's nothing he can do to you without giving himself away."

I nodded, swallowing as the four of us approached the two men, who puffed out their chests at us like tropical birds.

"Fred," my dad said, clearing his throat, "I was wondering where you got off to last night."

"I was out," I muttered. I tried to look him in the eye, but it felt as though our gazes were the south ends of two magnets- able to come close to each other, but never meet.

My father nodded. "Out, huh?" He raised a charcoal-colored eyebrow at me. "Do anything interesting?"

"Yeah, actually," I said, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm my racing heart beat. "Daph and I stopped by that party you were supposed to be hosting at The Silver Angel, but we didn't see you there."

"How funny," my dad sneered through gritted teeth.

"I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you kids this," Sheriff Stone interjected, "but there's nothing going on here worth nosing about over. This is all routine stuff. Best the three of you just head on home- especially you, Jones."

I turned, noticing that our group had in fact been reduced to three, with Shaggy nowhere in sight. I figured that he'd probably ducked out at the first sign of trouble and headed down to the hospital cafeteria, where we'd promised to take him after we met with the victim to get Jello cups for Scooby-Doo.

A chime filled the air and we all glanced up as a voice cracked over the PA system.

"Will Sheriff Stone and Mayor Jones please report to the pediatrics wing?" The voice sang. It was a low and seductive feminine tone, which spilled out over the nearby speaker that perched on the ceiling. "I repeat, Sheriff Stone and Mayor Jones to the pediatrics wing. Thank you."

My father huffed and slid his glasses up his nose, pushing past the three of us and marching to the exit of the ICU. Sheriff Stone paused as he began to follow my father, pointing a fat and calloused finger right in Velma's face.

"I mean it," he scolded, "go home."

"Alright, Alright," Velma mumbled, stepping away from the sheriff as he turned to leave. "Don't spill your cocoa over it."

The sheriff spun around, but we all just stared at him with wide and innocent eyes, pretending we hadn't heard her remark. He scoffed and turned back towards my dad, chasing after him and leaving us alone with the victim.

Tentatively, I pulled back the blue curtain, revealing the victim to myself and the girls. He laid motionless, wrapped almost from head to toe in bandages, with one leg suspended in the air. His heart monitor was keeping a steady beat, which was a good sign. No flowers or balloons were present around his bed, which I supposed was to be expected. He was from out of town, after all.

A pair of dark eyes shot toward us and we all jumped. The man watched us for a moment before slowly parting his cracked lips.

"You just gonna stand there?" He muttered hoarsely, as though he'd just woken from a long nap.

I sat down gingerly on the edge of his bed. I almost offered him my hand to shake but, noticing the bandages that coiled around either one of his large hands, thought better of it.

"My name's Fred Jones," I stammered.

"Jones," The man cooed. "Any relation to that mayor of yours?"

"No." I lied, a little too definitively.

"Good." The man nodded slightly, "what can I do for you, Mr. Jones?"

"I-" I started before quickly stopping myself. "We... We just want to know what happened to you. The mayor and the sheriff don't seem to care about the truth."

The man's heart monitor picked up at this. I glanced toward Velma and Daphne, silently wondering if I'd said the wrong thing and pleading for a quick save.

"I came to town for Mayor Jones' summit about boosting the local economy in small towns- increasing tourism and whatnot." The man said, barely above a whisper. "Where I come from in Georgia, folks aren't too keen on change, so the mayor took me out on the town yesterday evening, hoping to butter me up before the summit."

"What about his party? You didn't go?" Daphne interjected. The man shook his head.

"The plan had been to go out for dinner, then attend the party afterwords," he explained. "Of course, I didn't make it that far. You see, I got up to use the restroom before desert, and as I was coming back, I swore I saw the mayor slip something into my drink. I didn't think much of it, but as we were leaving the restaurant, I felt the strangest sensation come over me..."

The man's monitor continued to pick up speed, and we felt the tension in the room increase. We all sat on the edge of our seats, hungry for more information.

"My vision turned to a sea of swirling colors, and all I could hear was this... Growl. I raced back to my hotel, the horrible noise following me as I went. It wasn't until I got back to my room when I finally saw it..." The man stared blankly, his eyes filled with terror as though he were reliving the moment that got him to this point. His monitor sped up again.

"Saw what?" Velma asked, looking up from the notepad she'd been writing on.

The man opened his mouth the speak, but froze at the sound of the curtain behind us being ripped open. We all turned around in shock, expecting to see my dad or a hospital attendant there to scold us and send us away, tearing the truth we'd worked so hard to find right from our clutches. Instead, it was Shaggy. He was eating a cup full of Jello, and neatly closed the curtain behind him before sitting down on the bed.

"Where were you?" Velma whispered, scolding Shaggy for having left the group.

"Will you cool it?" Shaggy snapped in return. "Besides, you guys should be thanking me. How'd you like my little trick with the PA?"

We stared at him with wide eyes, all a combination of disgusted and impressed at his quick thinking- not to mention his grotesquely convincing sexy nurse voice. A billion questions burned in my mind about my enigmatic friend, but I pushed them all aside, returning to the matter at hand.

"You can finish, Sir," I said, rolling my eyes at Shaggy and turning back to the man.

"I'm sure you'll think I'm nuts," He began, chuckling cynically to himself, "but it was a monster. Blacker than the night, with fangs and claws like nothing you've ever seen. Af first I thought I was just seeing things, but then-"

"No." I interrupted, "there's no way it was a monster. You were high, for Christ's sake, there's no way to be sure. It was probably just a bear."

The man chuckled at me, and peeled back one of his many bandages, revealing a gash unlike anything I'd ever seen. A whole section of skin on his torso had been peeled off, leaving in it's place a gaping hole filled with puss and muscle tissue, with thick red blood pooling inside and spilling out. Harsh bruising surrounded the gash, with many more gory cuts surrounding he central wound.

"You ever seen a bear do this?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

My stomach churned, not only at the sight of the wound, but all the new information being thrown at me. I placed a foot on the floor, hoping it would help the room stop rotating. The man refastened his bandage.

"You ever seen a bear get into a locked room without breakin' nothing?" He continued. "I promise you, boy, this was no bear. This was something else... something evil."

I stood up suddenly, pushing open the curtain and stepping back out into the ICU. I dodged rushing doctors as I stormed out of the room, my head spinning as I tried to grasp everything going on around me.

Monsters weren't real. It was something I'd been able to say with a great deal of certainty for most of my life. The idea that the boogeyman, or some other creature that went bump in the night, had been attacking the politicians in town was troubling, to say the least.

I barreled out of the hospital and onto the sidewalk, where the cool breeze blew at my tee shirt and sent a shiver through my spine. I stood in the street, running my hands through my hair as I gathered my thoughts.

I heard the hospital door swing open behind me and my friends ran out. Daphne reached out to touch my back but I shrugged away from her, turning to walk down the street without saying a word to them.

"Fred, wait!" Daphne called, reaching out again and taking my hand. I spun around to face her, my face going red with anger and confusion.

"I told you guys- I'm done! It's over!" I snapped, "My dad's a drug lord, monsters are killing people- it's insane! We shouldn't have come here today, and we aren't coming back!"

"We thought you cared about helping people." Velma said. It was like a knife driving directly into my heart, but I didn't allow myself to crack.

"You know what guys?" I said, snatching my arm back from Daphne. "We're done. See you around."

I turned down the street, and the gang didn't chase me. I supposed they didn't have a reason to, considering as I'd just severed our friendship. It was hasty, and I instantly regretted it, but it was the only way to definitively separate myself from this mystery. I'd never felt so alone, but in a strange sense, I also felt a weight lifted off of my chest.

It didn't last, though. These things never did.

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 **this wasn't really my favorite chapter, but i didn't want to waste time trying to change it. chapter nine is one of my favorites so far, and will be coming soon!**


	9. Pretty Girls Make Graves

**I KNOW IDFK HOW TO UPDATE REGULARLY I'M A DISGRACE AND ALSO FRAPHNE TRASH JUST READ ITTTTT**

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Chapter Nine: Pretty Girls Make Graves

The Honeymoon Suite was at least a hundred degrees. The thermostat was broken, which shouldn't have shocked me, considering that I'd spent the last twenty-four hours growing accustomed to the ups and downs of living in a sketchy motel. My window was wide open, but it didn't help to soothe the blistering heat.

I'd come back to the suite after leaving the hospital, mostly because I didn't have anywhere else to go. I'd considered picking up some all-day breakfast, but it wasn't quite noon yet at the time and, although I'd lost all my friends, some traditions just couldn't be broken. So, I came back here, to the closest thing to a home I had anymore.

I turned on my phone, squinting in the light as I checked the time (the Honeymoon Suite didn't have a clock- I assumed it was because they'd blown the decor budget on fluffy pillows). It was three o'clock in the morning, and I rolled my eyes, flopping onto my back. Between the intense heat and the crushing psychological weight that recent events had thrust upon me, I was having a hard time falling asleep.

I stared at my reflection in the ceiling mirror, and hardly recognized the man (a generous distinction, I know) staring back at me. I'd only been homeless for a day now, but I could have sworn it was beginning to show. My hair, golden and once perfectly quaffed, had become matted and messy. My muscular physique, which once served as the foundation of my pride, had begun to look frail and hollow, my rich tan clearly fading. Worst of all- I squinted in the mirror to be sure the blue lights from outside weren't playing tricks on me- two pimples had formed on my forehead. I reached up and felt my face with my hand, just to be sure that the worst had truly come.

I rolled over to my side with a huff, not being able to stand my reflection any longer. Biologically, I knew it was impossible for someone to change so much over the course of one day. This only brought on an even more frightening revelation- had I always looked like this? Had all of my confidence up to this point been an illusion, brought about by the devotion of my friends and family?

I quiet knock came at my door, pulling me from my shame-spiral. I pulled myself off the king sized bed, wiping the sweat off my chest and back with a furry pillow before rushing to the door- hoping (foolishly) that the repair man for the thermostat had arrived ten hours ahead of schedule.

But the person on the other side of the door was no stranger, and her presence immediately sent a burst of refreshing, cool air through my body. She smiled at me with wide blue eyes, dressed in dark green Coolsville High School Athletic Department shorts and mismatched socks that only helped to accentuate her youthful appearance. She looked like an angel standing in my doorway, the bright neon light of the "Welcome to Paradise!" sign illuminating her from behind.

"Hey." Daphne said simply, a blush present on her already rosy cheeks.

"Hey." I replied back.

At first, I didn't quite know what to make of her visit. That being said, I was sure she wanted it that way. It was textbook Daphne Blake behavior; she'd never been uncomplicated from the day I met her. Once you started to catch on to her, she'd change the game. The only consistency in Daphne was her inconsistency.

She rocked back and forth, standing on the sides of her feet in her beat up sandals. I caught myself staring, and quickly blinked before she noticed. I don't think she did though, she had been too caught up staring right back at me.

"Wanna take a walk?" She finally asked, as though hitting the town at three in the morning was a normal thing to do. For her, it probably was.

I glanced down at my boxers, and told her to give me a minute to get dressed.

She may have been crazy, but there was no denying that Daphne had be wrapped around her finger.

* * *

I didn't bother to ask where we were going, fearing I'd dent the comfortable silence. It wasn't so much that I felt relaxed walking wordlessly down the nearly deserted street with her, but rather that I knew talking would feel so much worse. I did, after all, have a lot to make up for, and I wasn't sure I knew where to start. I was sure that Daphne would get me talking eventually and the longer I could prolong that conversation the better.

As if she were being controlled by some divine entity, Daphne veered into the parking lot of the twenty-four hour convenience store, not even stopping to see if I was following her. It was clear that I was merely a passenger on her mission, like Ebenezer Scrooge being guided through his life by the Ghost of Christmas Past. I didn't mind. There was something relaxing about being out of the driver's seat once in a while.

The only car in the parking lot was a hatchback with chipped white paint that looked to be about a thousand years old. Despite the desolate area in which it was located, the convenience store was clearly open, its light casting a pale glow upon the parking lot.

The doorbell chimed as Daphne wandered into the store, not bothering to hold the door open for me as I stumbled in after her. She made a direct beeline to the large slushee machine which stood at the back wall of the store, as if this entire night had all been leading up to the moment when Daphne would grab the largest cup the store offered (forty-four ounces, I checked) and fill it right to the brim with a thick grape flavored beverage.

She tossed a straw in her plastic cup of poison and took a sip.

"You want something?" She asked as she walked up to the counter, the straw still hanging out of her mouth. My eye caught the cola flavored slush as it churned in its machine but, thinking back to my two pimples, I decided against it.

The man at the register glanced up over his Playboy at the thud of Daphne's hundred pound drink landing on the counter. He silently punched a few numbers into his machine, the total coming up as $1.50, a dangerously low price for such an unhealthy drink, I'd decided. Daphne glanced down, fishing into her bra for money, an act that caught the eye of both myself and the clerk.

She tossed a five dollar bill on the counter and the clerk retrieved her change, still without saying a word. He set her change down on the counter and returned to his magazine, and Daphne gathered up the three dollar bills and tucked them into her shirt, leaving the fifty cents behind. Generous, I thought.

By the time I glanced up from the counter, Daphne was already outside, sitting on the curb and sipping her drink without a care in the world. It impressed me that she could be so relaxed all the time- the way she could saunter through life as though she were untouchable. It was one of the things I admired about Daphne; you could hurt her and she'd never even show it. It was also something I worried about.

I sat down on the curb next to her, watching the few cars that drove past in silence. I noticed the "Welcome to Paradise!" sign up the street begin to flicker, and I said I silent prayer that it would burn out. When I turned back to Daphne, she'd set her drink down on the pavement and was watching me, fiddling idly with the ends of her hair.

I chuckled awkwardly, but didn't say anything, opting not to ruin the perfect moment that was Daphne just sitting and smiling at me. She ran a hand through her thick red hair, tossing it over to one side as she cleared her throat as though she were about to say something very important.

"So, was it weird?" She began, scrunching up her nose in a clear moment of self-doubt the likes of which I'd never seen from Daphne. "Me trying to kiss you the other night?"

I nearly did a double take. Daphne Blake, the most self-assured being to ever grace this Earth, had pulled me out of bed in the middle of the night because she wanted to talk about us kissing- or, rather, not kissing, it seemed. She hadn't been silent on our way here to add to her well-contrived mystique, she'd been silent because she was nervous.

I chuckled at this. "No," I said, my blush painfully apparent, "no, it was cool. Can I have a sip of your drink?"

She handed me the giant cup and continued. "Okay," she said, "it's just- you didn't seem that into it."

The sugary drink helped to cool my burning cheeks, but I nearly choked at the suggestion that I might not be into kissing Daphne Blake. I handed her back the drink.

"What do you mean?" I asked. She scoffed.

"I don't know, you sort of just stood there, all limp like a sad piece of asparagus or something," she said, stirring her drink feverishly. "You didn't actually kiss me back."

"I... I..." I stammered, trying to think of why I hadn't kissed her when I had the chance. I knew the real reason, which was that I was afraid, but I continued to dig for an excuse that sounded less embarrassing. I didn't get the chance to find one, because Daphne cut me off with a huff.

"You see?" She said, clearly annoyed. "That's your problem, Fred. You never do anything."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped. I didn't want to start a fight with Daphne (although technically I already had when I declared our friendship to be over earlier that day), but if she was going to bait me, I wouldn't back down. I wasn't that much of a defeatist.

"In all the time I've known you," she said, "you've never done anything without someone else holding your hand- except for when you decided to dump all your friends and become a hobo, then you were Mr. Independent!"

"What?" I spat, "So, I'm a coward because I didn't kiss you? You're going to remind me of every stupid thing I've ever done just because we couldn't squeeze in a quickie in my dad's drug lab?"

Daphne's face dropped, and I couldn't tell if it was because I'd upset her or because she knew I'd gotten her. As if there was a difference.

"That's not what I mean." She said softly, tugging on her hair. She looked up at me, all of the sweetness having returned to her face. "You don't need to be afraid, Freddy."

I sighed, letting my head fall to rest on my hands. "I wish that were true, Daph." I mumbled, gazing back out into the street.

She huffed, pulling her knees up to her chest and leaning her head against them. She reached out and poked my shoulder, causing my body to teeter before ultimately straightening once more.

"Promise me you won't go out on somebody else's terms." She said soothingly, her voice slightly muffled by her knee, which squished her cheek. "You can end this however you want to. Don't let fear chase you away."

"I want to," I murmured, "but I don't know how. I feel like the universe is against me."

Daphne reached out and tousled my hair, a genuine smile cracking her wistful expression.

"A hero with the odds stacked in his favor isn't a hero," she giggled. "He's just some guy. And you, Freddy Jones, are not just some guy."

Daphne leaped up and darted back into the convenience store, instructing me to stay behind with a wave of her hand. I watched through the large glass doorway as she shot into one of the aisles, returning with something I couldn't quite see. She paid with her leftover bra-money and the clerk put the object into an opaque white bag.

When she returned from the store, she grabbed my hand and pulled me up, dragging me away as though she'd left a bomb inside that would explode at any second.

"Did I ever tell you about my family ski trip?" She asked, tugging me into the street, almost directly into the path of an oncoming car. The driver honked and Daphne gave them the middle finger before rushing the rest of the way across the road.

"No." I inquired. I tried to peak over Daphne's shoulder and into the bag, but she pulled it out of my view.

"We stopped at this grody truck stop on the way home so I could use the bathroom," She explained. "It was one of those disgusting one-room ones, but it was covered in all this cool graffiti. There was one bit that said, 'bravery isn't the absence of fear, but the acknowledgment that something else is more important than being afraid.' At first I was like, 'okay, what the fuck?' But now I think I get it."

We entered the Paradise Motel parking lot, where my old, white van waited patiently outside the Honeymoon Suite. Daphne stopped in front of it and dropped the bag onto the ground, reaching inside of it and retrieving a package of permanent markers. She tore it open and took out one of the markers, removing the cap with her teeth and turning towards my van. She started to draw something, and I nearly yelped out in protest, but she cut me off before I had the chance.

"You've got to get out of this mindset that being scared means you can't be brave," she said, the cap still inside her mouth as she continued to scribble onto the side of the van. "Being scared is what being brave is all about, and you, Fred, have got that shit locked. I mean, look how far you've got us already!"

"But I haven't done anything!" I argued. "Velma performed the autopsies, you found my dad's lair- Hell, even Shaggy helped more than me. I'm just the guy with the van."

"Exactly!" She chirped. "You are our brave and incredibly capable leader. This isn't just a van, this is The Mystery Machine!"

She spun around, revealing the design she'd drawn with a wave of her hands. There in huge block letters were the words, "The Mystery Machine," surrounded by several flowery doodles.

At first I was furious. It was an appropriate reaction, I figured, to having your only mode of transportation defiled with permanent marker.

But there was something wholesome about the scene before me. Between the goofy looking design and Daphne's proud giggles, I couldn't help but laugh. Maybe I've finally snapped, I thought as I continued to smile at my strange misfortune. I leaned back against The Mystery Machine, lifting my face up toward the sky and letting the ugly neon light dance across it.

"We can finish this Freddy." Daphne said, reaching out to stroke my hair yet again. "There's nothing holding you back."

I didn't wait this time. I reached out and took the back of Daphne's head in both hands, letting my fingers sink into her messy locks. I pulled our mouths together, not leaving room for hesitation as I had the previous night. I could taste faint traces of the grape flavored slushee that had stained her lips and teeth purple, so caught up the odd sensation that I almost forgot entirely that we were kissing. What pulled me back to reality was the feeling of Daphne grasping at the collar of my tee shirt, as if to beg me to come closer.

I pulled my hands out of her hair, where they'd managed to tangle themselves without my consent. Instead, I reached down and took hold of her hips, yanking them towards me in order to seal the distance between us. I felt Daphne's lips part in a smile at the rough interaction, and I couldn't help but grin in turn, impressed with myself for having torn away her gritty exterior at last.

When I finally opened my eyes, as if my magic, the "Welcome to Paradise!" sign had burnt out, and we were immersed in darkness.

* * *

 **luv this energy for freddy... next chapter coming soon!**


	10. Cometh the Hour (Cometh the Man)

**howdy folks! so sorry for such a late update, not to mention such a short chapter... don't worry! great things coming for freddie and the gang in the last four chapters! 3**

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Chapter Ten: Cometh the Hour (Cometh the Man)

Daphne rolled over beside me, pulling the fire-engine red sheets up to cover her chest. The crimson backdrop seemed to light her ginger hair ablaze and add a pinkish hue to her complexion. In her sleepy and disheveled state, she looked like Aphrodite, or some equally clichéd vision of beauty.

I had been by no means a professional in the what-people-do-in-the-Honeymoon-Suite business. It was clear that Daphne was- and that she'd knocked on my door more than prepared for the events that transpired. I couldn't decide whether or not that should have shocked me, but I was sure that I had been pleased with the outcome. Being with Daphne like that had been such a rush- even now I felt almost intoxicated.

Which brought my thoughts back to the drugs. I wasn't sure yet what I wanted to do, but I knew I couldn't let my father get away with his crimes (what they were, I wasn't exactly sure). As Daphne had told me last night, I wouldn't let this end on his terms. Not anymore. Maybe it was the pep talk, or perhaps her repeatedly screaming out how amazing I was shortly after, but Daphne had changed my perspective about all of this. Where I would go from there was a mystery.

I furrowed by brow, my eyes focused intensely on a spot on the ceiling mirror and how it might have gotten there. I hardly noticed Daphne as she leaned up and placed a gentle kiss on a spot she'd marked on my neck the previous night, and wrapped my arm around her purely out of instinct.

"What's wrong?" She asked, as though she could read my thoughts. I supposed I had been telegraphing quite a bit.

"I'm just thinking." I sighed. Daphne rested her head on my shoulder and looked up at me in the mirror.

"About?" She asked, tracing shapes on my bare chest with her finger.

"I don't know," I replied. "I want to stop my dad- really, I do... How, though? How does one go about these things?"

"If anyone can do it, it's you," she cooed. "But you aren't alone. I hope you know that."

Daphne let out a soft breath, and it didn't take long before she fell back asleep. I laid with her for a while, thinking about what she'd just told me.

I stood by what I'd said the previous day- this was too dangerous to let my friends get swept up in. If my father was really killing people, I didn't want them in the line of fire. I had the advantage, assuming that my dad would never hurt his own son. This meant that, even if I wasn't really alone, I would have to be.

I carefully slipped my arm out from under Daphne, not wanting her to wake up. In the dim light, I scrambled to pull on my underwear and a clean (well, sort of clean) pair of jeans. I paused as I turned to leave the Honeymoon Suite, considering whether or not I should leave a note for Daphne, or maybe a kiss on the forehead- just to be cute. I decided against it. We both knew she wasn't interested in "cute."

The Mystery Machine's engine growled as it came to life, like a bear being woken from hibernation. It was an old and damaged, now also tainted with the unyielding stain of permanent markers- but it ran.

My van used to be a vessel for every hardship I'd ever faced in my life. When I looked at it, all I could see was my cold and distant father, my dead mother, my lack of direction, and my own self-doubt. It was a reflection of myself- tired and unwanted. But something had changed last night, and it was as if the van had undergone the same growth that I had. This was no longer a depressed pile of scrap metal, but a loyal and determined companion, who had withstood the test of time, and would continue to for many years. It was, in every sense of the term, a Mystery Machine.

Cars filled the parking lot of the Coolsville Ritz, and lined up and down Main Street. Today was the day of my father's summit, making it the perfect opportunity to expose his crimes. I could unmask him in front of an audience, and the world would know what kind of a man he truly was- not just a few teenagers.

I stopped the van right in front of the hotel's side entrance and climbed out. Any parking ticket I might have gotten would likely be torn to shreds once I caught the serial killer that had been plaguing Coolsville for the past week.

The downside to a large audience was that the Ritz was impossibly crowded, with men and women filling the lobby and the dining room, moving between each other like bees in a hive. I seemed to throw off the rhythm, awkwardly bumping between people as I scanned the area for a familiar face- hopefully my father's. Instead, I noticed a man with his back to me, sitting at the bar with his wide brimmed hat pulled low over his face.

I approached the sheriff from behind as he downed a shot of whiskey, placing a hand on his shoulder. He didn't turn to face me.

"You shouldn't be here, kid." He slurred as the bartender refilled his glass. The bartender shot me a worried look. It was too early to be drinking like this.

"I'm looking for my father," I told him. "Have you seen him?"

The sheriff scoffed as he drank the freshly poured whiskey.

"He's up in the penthouse," he said, "making last minute preparations."

"What kind of preparations?" I asked.

Sheriff Stone stood up, his knees wobbling as he did. He reached out towards the bar for support, and used his other hand to poke me in the chest.

"Go home." He boomed. He looked up from beneath the brim of his hat, and I could clearly make out fear in his eyes as he lifted me slightly by the collar of my shirt. His hot breath smelled of alcohol and poured across my face.

"Sheriff Stone, are you alright?" I asked, my voice low enough so only he could hear me.

The sheriff dropped me back to the floor, steadying himself once more against the bar.

"Just get out of here, Jones," he groaned. "While you still can."

Unsurprisingly, I didn't heed his generous warning.

The service elevator was the only one which could access the penthouse suite without a key, but it wasn't hard to sneak into. Had Shaggy been here, he probably would have put on a bow tie and pretended to be a waiter with a very important room service delivery for the mayor- but I was alone, so I took the more obvious route, which was just telling the hotel staff that I wanted to surprise my father. Even when we were at our most distant, the perks of being the mayor's son never ceased.

This elevator moved much slower than those built for guests, which provided ample time for me to begin to panic. It was safe to say that I didn't have much of a plan- a recurring theme over these past four days. In fact, I wasn't even sure what my father had done. Evidence suggested he owned and operated a drug ring, which he was using to poison politicians- but other than that? So far, the only eyewitness reported a monster had been killing people. Although my father's involvement in these crimes was unclear, one thing was certain: I was merely inches away from the truth.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans as the elevator doors began to open slowly, revealing the vast penthouse suite, where my father's shadow cloaked the room like a thick blanket.

He stood by the vast picture window, not turning to face me as I stood in the darkness he'd created. I wagered that he knew I was there, but then again, he'd never been to good at noticing me, had he?

That was all about to change. My father would go to jail and spend the rest of his miserable life thinking about his son who locked him away, assuming everything went well.

But these things never do.

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as i said, this was kinda a short and mostly pointless chapter, but i needed a way to transition into the climax and hopefully this works? hopefully chapter eleven will be out next week.


	11. The Black Pill Blues

**i bet y'all thought i was never going to update this fic again! well here we are! i'm so sorry for the delay. i've managed to shorten the remainder of the fic down, so there are only going to be two more chapters, both of which will be released in the next week (hopefully, lmao). i have a few ideas for my next project, but more on that after the chapter!**

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Chapter Eleven: The Black Pill Blues

My father turned towards me ever so slightly, shooting a wry smile in my vague direction and causing an icy chill to shoot up my spine. My father's aura had changed drastically, perhaps due to my own changed perspective, and it was as though I could see everything as it truly was for the first time. My father was evil- there was no disputing the fact.

"Fred," he greeted warmly, finally beginning to step towards me. "I was hoping I'd see you today. Please, have a seat."

My dad gestured to the small breakfast table which sat in the centre of his suite, which was decorated elegantly with a white tablecloth and a small vase of aconite flowers. I took a seat hesitantly, swallowing a lump that had begun to form in my throat.

"Coffee?" He offered, gesturing towards the urn on the nearby room service cart. "Black, right?"

I nodded shakily as my father turned to the cart and began pouring two mugs.

"So, what can I do for you, kiddo?" He asked with his back still towards me as he stirred milk into his own coffee. I hated "kiddo."

"I," I stuttered, cleared my throat, and then continued. "I think it's time you and I talked."

My father carried the two steaming mugs to the table, setting mine down before sitting in the chair opposite to me. The coffee swirled in the mug, not unlike the contents of my stomach, which felt as though they were doing backflips out of fear. Hoping to calm myself down, I took a sip of my coffee.

"Alright," my father smiled, "what do you want to talk about?"

I gulped, placing the mug down with shaky hands as my father stared holes into me. His lips were curled into a warm and mayor-like grin, but his eyes were cold.

"Let's start with your cabin off the west road out of town- the drug den?" I suggested, "Then we can talk about how you've been slipping those drugs to the politicians you invited to town, and how they all end up dead the next day. Murdered, to be more specific, by what one living victim described as some sort of monster."

My father sighed- chuckled, almost- and leaned back in his chair, taking a long sip of his coffee.

"You're a smart kid, Fred," he mused. "You always have been. I must say, I'm impressed. I doubt the cops in this hicktown ever would have figured me out- that is, if they didn't already know."

My father laughed, but I failed to see the humor in our situation. I was trapped with a killer, listening to him confess to his crimes over a hot cup of joe. I wished more than anything that I hadn't come here alone, but it was too late to go back and change any of my poor decisions. If I could, it wouldn't have been today that I changed- it would have been Thursday afternoon, the day I decided to sneak into the morgue with my friends. The day my life turned sour.

"So, you want to know my dastardly plan," he hummed. "It's really not that complicated. In fact, I'm surprised you haven't caught on yet. You see, Freddy, Coolsville was a one-horse town before I took over. A worthless cesspool like so many small municipalities. But I changed that. I turned this place into a budding metropolis, and wanted other small towns to do the same. But not everyone agreed. Those who opposed me- well, they simply had to go."

"Why?" I asked. "Why kill them just because they didn't want to govern their towns the way you run yours?"

"I didn't kill them, Fred." He said, bringing me a glimmer of hope. It didn't last, though, as he concluded his thought with, "the drugs did."

"Your drugs," I nodded, "that you were packaging and distributing from a small cabin in the woods. But, why so many if you only planned on killing a few people? Daphne and I found loads of that stuff."

"Because, Fred, it doesn't stop with a few old-fashioned councilmen," He explained, his voice now thick and sinister, as though a switch had been flipped inside of him. "This town still reeks of quaint suburbia. The elderly, the highly religious- with their Sunday games of Bingo in church basements, and their silly little malt shops like the one you and your friends all hold so dear- it all needs to go."

I took another long sip of my coffee, unable to look my father in the eyes. He was sick, without question. Some sort of sociopath who was only interested in money and power, who wanted to construct some sort of dystopian society which he could rule over. The town of Coolsville was nothing more than a board game to him, or a little tabletop model that he could rearrange the pieces in as he pleased.

"Well, son?" He pulled his own mug up to his lips and asked, "what do you think?"

"I think you missed the point of the Batman comics," I replied. "Gotham City isn't something to aspire to. What you're describing isn't paradise, Dad, it's a wasteland." I set my empty mug down on the table with a thud. "You won't get away with this."

"At the risk of sounding cliche, Fred," he sighed, "I already have."

My father stood up from the table and begin to walk towards the large window, his footsteps booming as though they were in slow motion. He pulled the blinds closed before grabbing his navy blue blazer off a nearby hook and pulling it on. He made his way towards the elevator, shutting off every lamp he passed as he went.

"Dad, wait," I called. The words felt hard to form, my mouth feeling almost numb as though I'd just left the dentist. "The man in the hospital said he'd been attacked by a monster. Why?"

My father paused, turning to face me as the elevator door opened with a chime. "I don't know," he said, "I found the drugs on the deep web. The organization selling them just said that anyone who ingested at least 150 milligrams would face an excruciating death. I suppose you'll see for yourself."

My father stepped into the elevator, and it wasn't until the doors closed behind him that I realized what had happened. Peering into my empty mug, I saw a ring of black sludge- the drug we'd found in the victims' stomachs. My father had done the one thing I'd been banking on him not doing, and now I'd been sentenced to death. Whatever had killed Steven Adams and Gloria Ramirez would soon be after me, and I had no idea how to stop it.

The room began to spin and I started to feel light headed. I fell off the chair, landing on the floor with a thud. I desperately tried to find my bearings, but it was proving impossible. Lights and colors began to flood my vision and it was clear that whatever psychedelic my father had given me was starting to take it's full effect. The noises from outside began to combine with each other as though I was underwater. There was only one sound I could make out clearly.

A growl. It came, at first, from behind, and then above, and soon it was as though the noise surrounded me, growing louder and louder as whatever apex predator my father had sent for me drew nearer.

I reached for my phone, the lights of which nearly blinded me, and did my best to type out what I hoped would be a coherent text to Daphne: "S.O.S! DAD DRUGGED ME! MONSTER COMIANAJFLG-"

My phone flew from my hands as something tackled me from behind, snarling and growling as it sent me face-first into the floor. Its claws dug into my back and I screamed in agony, desperately trying to crawl out from under the beast. I could feel its hot breath on my neck as I managed to roll out from underneath it. Too weak to run, I began to crawl towards the elevator- my only method of escape from the penthouse. I reached up toward the button, pressing it feverishly as I turned to get a good look at whatever was attacking me.

It was closer than I'd expected (or rather, hoped) and slowly skulking forward. Just as I'd been warned, the monster was a large black mass that seemed to blend in with the shadows around it. It moved awkwardly, with its back hunched over and it's long claws scraping into the floor as some combination of saliva and blood dripped from its mouth.

Without warning, the creature lunged towards me, knocking me into the elevator as the doors slid shut. Pinned against the back wall, I used my arms to protect my face, which the monster clawed at relentlessly. I reached out with my foot, trying to push the button which would open the doors and allow me to push the monster out, but it was no use- I was too far.

With all my strength I shoved the monster aside and scrambled for the panel of buttons, but the creature surged forward, knocking me into the wall once more. I pulled my knees up, creating as much distance as possible between myself and the beast as it continued to claw at my face. I reached out with my arm towards the panel, freeing up most of my face and allowing the creature to give me a nasty gash.

I slammed on the button and the doors began to slide open. Using the strength from my legs, I kicked the creature out of the elevator. It slid across the floor, letting out a shriek as it left a slimy skidmark behind it. Without hesitating, I began to pound on the button to close the doors.

The elevator doors crept to a close and the monster rushed back towards me, unwilling to give up his prey so easily. Teeth gnashing, it charged at me once more, but the firm closing of the elevator doors stopped it dead in its tracks. I could hear it slam up against the doors just as they shut and begin scratching relentlessly at them.

I paused for a moment to catch my breath before pushing the button that would carry me down to the ground floor before inspecting the wounds on each of my arms: a series of large gouges which were pouring blood, not unlike the wound on my face. I let my head fall for a moment, pausing to catch my breath before removing my tee shirt and using what was left of my strength to rip it in half. I tied one half around each forearm, hoping it would prevent me from losing too much blood. The last thing I needed was to be weakened even more.

I glanced up at the panel. I had two more floors to go. I wasn't sure what I would do when I reached the end of my ride, let alone if I'd even be safe.

Tears began to fall down my cheeks as I hit my head against the wall over and over again, praying that this was all a dream, and if I banged my head hard enough, I'd wake up, and it would be as though the past week had never happened. My father wouldn't be a killer, my friends would still like me and, most importantly, I wouldn't be trapped in an elevator, bleeding out as the monster sent to kill me waited hungrily on the other side.

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 **hehehehehe. hope you enjoyed! freddy jones is really out here gettin his shit rocked. love that for him. anyway, i have a few ideas for my next fic (all fraphne, of course- not just because i ship them but more because i just understand their characters more). i was thinking about doing an adult au where coolsville is sort of a cyber-punk gotham city knock-off and fred's a detective who gets into some Remember The Night shenanigans (great movie, look it up). also, let me know what you think! sorry this is the longest outro ever. sorry. bye.**


	12. Babylon

**alright kiddies! it's time for the big showdown! are you excited? also, it's been, what- two days? LOOK AT ME GO!**

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Chapter Twelve: Babylon

I pulled myself out of the elevator, a small trail of blood following after me as I crawled on my forearms. The hotel lobby was empty, the beginning of the summit having drawn all of the politicians into the large dining room. I tried to call out, hoping that someone at the summit would hear me, but I was too weak to produce anything more than a whimper. The drugs in my system had now taken full effect, rendering me nearly helpless.

I pulled myself to my feet, leaning against the wall as I dragged myself down the hall- towards the side exit, and towards my van. I couldn't drive, but I could provide myself with some much needed sanctuary while I licked my wounds. Of course, fate wasn't so kind to me, and I hadn't made it far down the long hallway before I heard the creature behind me.

It frothed at the mouth, slime flying off of it's almost amphibian skin as it chased after me. It scuttled down the hallway after me, growling and snarling as it came. I tried to run, wobbling back and forth with the monster hot on my tail.

I burst out of the side doors just as the monster caught up to me. It threw me to the concrete below us, pinning me down as it let out a colossal roar right above me. I reached up, trying to the best of my ability to wrestle the beast off, but it was too strong. Or maybe I was just too weak.

I screamed as the monster clawed at my chest, ripping a large gash into my flesh. My head flew back it pain as a part of me accepted that I was about to die. Like Steven Adams. Like Gloria Ramirez. I would become another victim of an unfortunate "animal attack," and my father would walk free. But all hope wasn't yet lost.

I heard the roar of an engine, and both me and the monster turned to see what had produced the noise. There at the edge of the parking lot were Shaggy, Scooby, Velma, and Daphne, the latter sitting atop her stolen black BMW K1200S, revving the bike's engine at the monster. The monster screamed back but Daphne didn't seem to waver as the bike began to race towards us. It wobbled for a moment, then straightened as Daphne pulled something out from behind her back: a bow and arrow. She pulled back on the arrow as she sped towards the monster, finally releasing it as she spun past.

The arrow hit the monster square in the back of the head, and it released a vile shriek as it slowly collapsed onto me. I shoved the now limp monster to the side, panting heavily as my friends all rushed towards me.

"Daphne," I panted, having trouble forming more complex words, "How did you-"

"I got your text," she replied, also panting. She pulled something out of her pocket and placed it in my flaccid hand, adding, "take the drug, see the monster, right?"

I peered down into my hand, turning over the package Daphne had stolen from my father's drug den. One pill was missing.

"You took the drug?" I asked. "How are you not sick?"

Daphne laughed as she pulled off her sweater, pressing it against my bleeding chest. With one hand securing the compress which soaked up my blood, she laid down, resting her head against my sweat-drenched shoulder.

"Oh, I'm tripping balls," she said. "But you were in trouble, so I got my shit in gear."

Shaggy rushed towards us, producing a bottle of water from his backpack and handing it to me. I think he'd expected me to drink it, but I instead opted to pour its contents over my face, gasping as I finally felt myself starting to cool down.

"I'm glad Daphne finally found a use for her motor-archery or whatever," Shaggy explained frantically, "but can we address the elephant here? What's going on? What monster?"

Daphne and I both turned to the place the monster had fallen, but were shocked to find that it was gone, having disappeared into the wind upon it's epic defeat.

The sound of a throat clearing grabbed all of our attentions, and we glanced up to see Velma, looking down at her feet in shame.

"Fred…" She started, avoiding my eyes out of shame. "I'm sorry about what I said. I was wrong. I mean, if you were willing to go through all this to stop your dad, you're more of a hero than anyone I've ever met."

I smiled at Velma, reaching my hand up for her to take. She grabbed it and pulled me up onto my feet, helping to steady me as I wobbled slightly.

"Well gang," I smiled, finally feeling my mind begin to clear. "This isn't over till it's over. Let's go."

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The whole dining room seemed to freeze as we walked in. Forks and knives dropped to the ground and complimentary brunches fell out of mouths as I- the shirtless boy dripping with blood- stormed up to the stage, where my father was in the middle of his PowerPoint presentation. He was on a slide entitled "The Dawn of a New Age" as I reached out and snatched the microphone from his hands.

No one looked more shocked to see me than he did. He stared at me as though he'd seen a ghost. His eyes widened and he stood frozen like a statue, unable to do anything to stop me as I addressed the crowd before us.

"This man is lying to you," I started, a suggestion which received mixed reviews from the rest of the room. "He doesn't care about your towns. Your economy. Your livelihoods. He's gathered you all here today to convinced you to turn your small towns into dangerous and unkempt metropolises. And he's killing anyone who disputes him. He has a drug lab off the west road out of town, and he's been using it to poison politicians!"

My father seemed to regain his composure at the sound of this. Realizing that I'd put his entire life at stake, he laughed, patting my shoulder and leaning into the microphone.

"My son, everybody," he laughed. "What a joker!" He leaned up to my ear, so close that I could feel his hot breath, breathing fire at me life the serpent he was. He dropped his voice and whispered, "Fred, you have one chance to walk away from this before I make you wish you were never born."

Pulling out of his grasp, I continued. "He drugged me, just like all those other people. How do you think I got these cuts? This man is dangerous, and insane, and he needs to be put away."

I eyed my father as his blood began to boil. His fists clenched and eyes widened madly as he lunged towards me. Screaming curses, he began swinging wildly at me. With my reflexes still impaired, I struggled to dodge the blows as he backed me into a table, where politicians stared at the ordeal with shocked expressions.

My father reached out and snatched one of their knives, swinging it towards me in a fit of rage. I held his arm away with both hands as the knife drew closer and closer to my neck. I fell back onto the table and he followed, nearly on top of me as his knife pressed towards me.

"I should have finished you off myself!" He snarled through gritted teeth.

My arms began to give out and my father's blade neared my neck, slowly but surely. "Is this what you wanted?" I growled in reply. "Are you the monster that kills his own son?"

The sound of a gun firing rang through the dining room. For a moment, I thought I'd died, but it didn't take long for me to realize that I hadn't been the target. My father's eyes dilated and the knife in his hand fell limp, clattering to the table. The people around us began to gasp and scream, and I felt my father roll off of me before collapsing to the floor, revealing the person who had delivered the bullet.

Sheriff Stone stood in front of us, pointing his still-smoking gun in our direction as though he were frozen in a picture. His hands and arms suddenly began to quiver, and the gun fell to the floor.

I heard Shaggy throwing up behind me. Velma and Daphne muttered various expressions of shock as I stood up slowly. The world began to spin as I stared at my father's lifeless body on the floor in front of me. People called out to me, but I couldn't hear them- the only sound was my father's voice ringing through my skull. Maybe it was the blood loss, or maybe the drugs, or maybe it was the only parent I'd ever known lying dead in front of me, but the last thing I remember from that morning was my eyes falling shut, and my body hitting the floor.

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 **a little short, but i think i got the message across, right? stay tuned for the epilogue! (don't worry, fred isn't dead lmfao)**


	13. Epilogue

**yee-haw boys! the final chapter- well, not really a chapter, considering it's only about 800 words. point is, thank you so much to everyone who's read and enjoyed this story, and i hope you love the ending!**

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Chapter Thirteen: Epilogue

I woke up to the feeling of sweat running down the back of my neck and a horrible sting in my chest. I hissed as I opened my eyes, only to be met with my own reflection. It left me disoriented at first, my breathing heavy as I frantically tried to figure out where the Hell I was. The fluffy pillows gave my location away immediately; I was back in the Honeymoon Suite.

The sting returned and I cried out, producing a small chuckle from someone in the room I'd yet to see.

"Will you calm down?" The voice teased and I instantly recognized it as Daphne, who started at me like I had two heads. She sat hovered over me, dabbing peroxide on the wound on my chest, which had apparently been stitched up without my knowledge. "The doctor said to clean your chest and arms every two hours," she concluded.

"How long have I been here?" I asked, propping myself up on a heart shaped pillow.

"I don't know," Daphne said, continuing to clean my gash. "Seven hours, maybe. You took some melatonin to calm your nerves after leaving the hospital and you've been in and out ever since. This is the third time we've had this conversation."

"So what happened?" I asked, having to force my eyes to stay open. Daphne finished with my chest and moved on, taking my left hand in her own as she began to rub peroxide on it.

She sighed, not looking up at me as she said, "everything worked out, Freddy. Don't worry about the details."

"No," I argued, pulling my arm out of her grasp. "The sheriff shot my dad. Why? What happened?"

Daphne took my hand again, but this time she didn't try to clean it. "Your dad threatened the sheriff and his family- forced them to do his evil bidding and whatever. Remember our pal in the pickup truck? Apparently, he's the sheriff's son. There was something about his daughter drugging Steven Adams in some club, but I don't know the details. Anyway, the sheriff didn't want the mayor to hurt people, and him trying to kill you was the last straw or something."

"Weird," I hummed. "After all this time- after you hit him with a paintball- he still saved my life."

Daphne nodded before turning over my arm and continuing to clean it. She squeezed my hand, replacing the sting I felt with warm electricity. I wasn't exactly sure what our official relationship status was ("dating" felt presumptuous, and we both knew that "just friends" would be a lie as well), but I didn't really care. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement between us that whatever happened, we were in this for the long haul. Whether or not the same could be said about the rest of our friends, I didn't know.

"What happened to Shaggy and Velma?" I inquired as Daphne traded my left arm for my right.

"Burger Binge. Shaggy insisted he would never eat again after what happened at The Ritz, but that only lasted about an hour."

I pulled myself out of bed, searching around the messy suite for a pair of jeans and a shirt that hadn't been dirtied, ripped, or covered in blood over the last few days. I put on some clothes and grabbed my keys before stepping out into the dusk, where repair men were hard at work fixing the "Welcome to Paradise!" sign. I opened the driver's door to the newly-named Mystery Machine and nearly climbed in before Daphne chased me out of the Honeymoon Suite.

"Where are you going?" Daphne snapped. "You need to rest."

"What I need is to go meet up with my friends for some all-day breakfast," I countered. I reached into the backseat of the van and searched around before retrieving Daphne's old vintage roller-skates, which she hadn't worn since before all this started. It hadn't felt right to wear them before, she had reasoned- but now the timing felt better than ever. I tossed the skates in her direction, and she caught them with ease. "Coming?" I asked.

Daphne slipped into her roller skates and wheeled towards the passenger's side, slamming into the door in an awkward attempt to stop. She climbed into the seat next to me and we drove to The Burger Binge, laughing and smiling all the way. It was as though whatever dark cloud had been looming over Coolsville had passed, and things could finally return to the way they were.

I'd had my big adventure. And now that the fog had lifted, I knew what exactly it was that I was meant to do. I wasn't destined to save the world, but to enjoy it- to drive my friends around in my van, loving every second of every tiny adventure we faced. So that's what I did. And for the first time, without any regrets, I was able to say that all I ever did was drive.

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 **and that's it! this is the first multi-chapter story that i've ever written, and i had such a good time with it! i'm so glad so many people loved it, and you can expect my next fic very soon!**


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